


I Have Feelings

by howdoyou_write



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Not Britpicked, Not Canon Compliant, OOC Eggsy, Panic Attacks, Smoking, Smut, Whump, Whumptober 2020, a little bit of romance, but it ain't bad and kinda fits so..., depressed!eggsy, here we are, just ooc all around i think, mentions of torture, not planned at all but once again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26945281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howdoyou_write/pseuds/howdoyou_write
Summary: Eggsy's world is flipped on its head when he walks into work one day and finds his dead mentor and two closest friends chatting like it's just another Tuesday.He feels left out of the loop.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> heyoo. I had a Really Shitty Thing happen to me like a year ago and in the need to process that this was born. I never thought it would go anywhere past like a lil' one-shot but... it grew legs and here we are. it's soooo close to being finished I'm just getting impatient and i feel like it's totally long enough to put it into some chapters. so i'm hoping it'll be finished in a week or so.
> 
> once again... this is so ooc it's not even funny. i'm telling you i'm projecting. i know it. you know it. no point in denying it. however, i still think it's Pretty Okay and maybe plausible. 
> 
> let's see... i don't think there are any other warnings? lemme know if you find any but. yeah. once again this is 100% me working through my own trauma. also i might include smut in this. does anyone have any opinion on if it's in it's own chapter or not? might not happen but we'll see where the story takes us. 
> 
> please... comment. give me some kudos. i'm desperate for validation. 
> 
> also... enjoy!

It’s been three days since what felt like the end of the world, and Eggsy had yet to surface from the sea of numbness overtaking his brain. Three days since his world got turned on its head for the third time in less than six months. Three days since he found out Harry Hart was actually alive and well. 

_____

Eggsy would love to give everyone the benefit of the doubt here, but based on the fact that he walked into Arthur’s office only to see Harry, Merlin, and Roxy all chatting like nothing was out of the ordinary, he could take a wild guess and say that he had been kept in the dark for a reason. 

Eggsy didn’t bother with pleasantries. After a stunned moment of silence where they all stared at each other with wide eyes, he turned on his heel and walked right out the door without a second thought, shutting it firmly despite the echo of his name he could barely hear. His feet carried him down the hall and away from what his brain was processing as immediate danger. His face was passive, probably a tad confused if one was paying close enough attention. He needed to get somewhere safe, though where that might be he wasn’t sure. He struggled to keep his breathing even, keep himself under control, but he could feel tears pricking at his eyes and his chest desperately wanted to let out a vicious scream. 

He found himself in the bullet train, hurtling toward the shop. His emotions were seconds away from escaping, and Eggsy knew he needed to get himself away from any prying eyes. Especially Merlin’s. And Harry’s. Oh, and Roxy’s. 

_What the hell is going on?_

_____

Once safely in his car, parked at least a few miles away from the tailor shop, Eggsy completely lost his shit.

Tears were streaming down his face, and had been since who knows when, and more than a few sobs were escaping his chest. As soon as he put the car in park, Eggsy started hyperventilating. He knew, distantly, that he was having a panic attack, but he couldn’t fathom any other solution other than to keep breathing. Deep breaths, his mum had told him before. 

His mom. Eggsy should call his mom. She would know what to do. Maybe she didn't (and couldn’t) know the whole story, but Eggsy wasn’t entirely sure what the hell to do with himself. He was hopeful that his fellow Kingsman members at HQ would take the hint, but he still wasn’t fully convinced someone wasn’t following him. 

Eggsy dials his mom, and she picks up on the third ring, blissfully unaware of what Eggsy was going through. He hated having to ruin her day, but his vision was starting to get patchy and she was the only one who would understand. 

“‘Ello?”

“Mom,” Eggsy said in a rush. “Harry is alive and Roxy and Merlin knew and didn’t tell me,” he got out in a rush.

“What!” She exclaimed, sounding just as surprised as he felt. 

“I don’t know what’s g-going on,” Eggsy said through sobs, his breath heaving, “why would they keep this from me?”

“Honey, you need to calm down,” Michelle said, much calmer than Eggsy. “Where are you?”

Eggsy took a few gulps of air before replying. “I don’t know exactly, a few miles away from the shop,” he said, glancing around at his surroundings. There was a park to his left, and rows of townhouses to his right. He had pulled over and was safely at a standstill on the side of the road. 

“Are you driving?”

“No, I p-pulled over. I’m by a-a park.”

“Good. Don’t go anywhere, honey. You need to calm down,” she repeated. 

“I know,” Eggsy said. “I’m trying.” He was aware he currently sounded like a toddler, but he really couldn’t be bothered to care at the moment. As many secrets as he’d kept from his mum throughout the years, she’d still seen him at his worst, and vise-versa. She was one of the only adults in the world Eggsy could completely trust and love unconditionally with the vulnerable and shattered parts of himself. As anyone with two brain cells and a working understanding of modern society, Eggsy wasn’t very good with his feelings, especially the mushy parts of him that enjoyed things like petting a dog or cat and wearing his dad’s medal around his neck every day, even now. 

“Why would they keep this from me?” Eggsy repeated, sounding a little better but still crying. 

“I don’t know, sweetie. Can you send me your location? I’m coming to get you.”

“What? Why?” Eggsy asked. 

“You’re not in any condition to drive,” Michelle stated like it was plain as day. Eggsy had to agree. He couldn’t focus on much, and there was what felt like a gaping hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to be. If he’d just gotten back from a mission, he would be checking for a bullet hole. Eggsy glanced down anyway, finding his casual suit stain-free. He almost wished there was a more physical manifestation of his pain. 

“Eggsy?” Michelle asked.

“Yeah?”

“Can you tell me where you are, love?”

Eggsy glanced around hurriedly, trying to identify his surroundings. He knew how he got here, but he couldn’t describe it, couldn’t put it into words. He couldn’t think. 

“I-I don’t know… I know I’m close to the shop, but I can’t think of where exactly.”

“That’s okay, sweetie. Can you go on your phone? Do the send me your location-thingy you showed me last week?”

Yes, Eggsy could do that. He took his phone away from his ear, wiping the tears and sweat off the screen and tapping over to his mom’s contact. He pulled up the ‘send my current location’ option and pressed it. 

They said their goodbyes, Michelle telling Eggsy to call her if he needed anything. Eggsy was left alone in the car, tears starting to dry. He realized that he was sweating profusely, and turned the AC up.

Eggsy knew he needed something to focus on. He couldn’t think of anything but the resounding silence inside the car, the fan the only sound in the enclosed space. Picking up his phone, he scrolled through until he found his usual playlist and put on a song, trying to forget how his life feels changed forever. 

_____

Michelle managed to get Eggsy back to his townhouse without much incident, getting the story out of him and letting him sit in silence. Occasionally, she would look over with sadness in her eyes and reach out to fold her hand over his. Eggsy sought out the comfort, but could already feel himself numbing from the pain. He managed a weak smile, but he knew it looked painfully fake. 

Time felt different those first few days, Eggsy realized belatedly. He seemed to spend his hours doing nothing, glancing up at the clock to find that chunks of the day had passed and not being able to remember what he was doing, what he had been thinking. Michelle occupied herself well enough, nearby if Eggsy needed her but not overbearing. 

Merlin and Roxy had called, texted, and left multiple voicemail messages, but Eggsy ignored them. He wasn’t sure he could pull himself together long enough to talk to them. He’d texted Jamal and Ryan, letting them know what was going on. They’d replied with their sincerest apologies (which for his best mates wasn't saying much), telling him how fucked the situation was, and that they were there for whatever he needed. It didn’t fill the void in his heart the way Eggsy had hoped it would. As genuine as his friends were, their apologies changed absolutely nothing and honestly just felt like pity. In the back of his head, Eggsy knew they weren’t pitying him, that there was nothing anyone could do to fix whatever had been broken. Even if Harry apologized to him, explained the situation, he knew it would take a long time to put this out of his head and move on. 

_Harry doesn’t trust me_ , Eggsy thought. Tears welled up in his eyes again, which were now raw and sore. Eggsy let the tears fall, and wiped them away when they got to his chin. He took a deep breath, and felt himself internalizing the information. Whatever the situation turned out to be, Harry didn’t trust Eggsy enough to even bother telling him he was alive. How long had this been going on? It’d been months since Eggsy saw Harry get shot in the head, did Roxy and Merlin know this whole time? And they’d kept it from him. Eggsy knew he’d been a complete wreck after Harry died, but he at least had his friends and his job to keep him going.

Where did Eggsy stand now? Was Harry going to take his seat at the table back? It only made sense. Eggsy had never officially become a Knight, although Merlin had assured him that there were plans to confirm him. Even so, he knew he technically didn’t pass the final test, and he’d really only taken up the name of Gawain because Eggsy thought that was what Harry would want him to do. Harry would’ve wanted him to keep going, keep trying to be a better man, a better agent. Eggsy never thought Harry could see him like this, as an expendable agent that wasn’t worth insider, possibly even common knowledge.

Hadn’t Eggsy proven enough? Hadn’t he shown himself, more than once?

Eggsy thought Harry was proud of him. Sure, he wasn’t perfect, he made mistakes, had a few temper tantrums every once in a while, but Eggsy sure as hell thought that he had made a damn good employee and a damn good Kingsman. He’d worked his ass off for Kingsman, almost died multiple times, sacrificed nearly everything he could to keep the place going.

And Harry had given him the chance. Eggsy knew he never would’ve gotten anywhere if it wasn’t for Harry. Harry opened up many doors for him, allowed him to prove himself and showed him that he had potential. He’d been more than a father figure, more than a mentor.

Eggsy knew he loved Harry. He’d known it since before he saw Harry’s lifeless body lying on the pavement. Eggsy had mourned him, accepted the fact that he and Harry could never, would never happen. 

And now Eggsy felt like everything he’d thought for the past few months had been turned on its head.

Eggsy curled up on his side, staring at the wall and desperately tried to stop thinking.

_____

Eggsy found himself drifting through the rest of the day, and the next. He did the bare minimum. He got himself out of bed, later then he thought his body would allow, and tried to feel like a human. He lost many hours doing nothing but staring at a screen, scrolling endlessly in hopes that something would make him feel. 

Eggsy was completely numb, he realized later that day. It almost made him laugh, and he knew he wasn’t doing okay. People kept asking him that. ‘How are you doing?’ had become grating on his nerves within the first 24 hours. Almost as much as ‘I’m sorry.’

_How am I doing?_ Eggsy thought. _I don’t know, my fucking mentor is alive and yet doesn’t think highly enough of me to bother to let me know he’s alive. My best friends knew about it, and didn’t think I was dignified enough to be kept in the loop._

_He fucking tossed me out,_ Eggsy continued. He could feel the anger boiling inside him, surging to the surface and exploding. _He tossed me like a fucking sack of potatoes._

Tears welled up in Eggsy’s eyes again, his fists clenched on his sides, and his face felt hot. He wanted to scream, to punch, to throw something. He wanted to rip his townhome apart, find anything and everything that reminded him of Harry and trash it. Rip it to shreds with his bare hands.

Eggsy sat up to do just that, and the numbness returned. He felt tired, so tired. His muscles relaxed and he slouched back into the couch, the anger he felt being buried under a blanket of exhaustion. 

Eggsy was tired, so tired. He hadn’t even left the house today, and he felt like he’d just run a marathon. 

He laid on the couch and tried to turn his brain off again. 

_____

Eggsy doesn’t care. About anything. 

His mum asks him all kinds of questions, all day. ‘What do you want for dinner?’ ‘Do you want to come to the store with me?’ ‘What do you think about a trip out of town soon?’ 

Eggsy doesn’t care. About any of it.

He tries to, but he just doesn’t have the emotional capacity. Why care about anything? Life is going to throw shit at you from day one, let you clean yourself off and move on, only to double down and hit you again the second you find something worth living for. 

Eggsy doesn’t care, because none of it matters. It’s the only thought all day that brings a genuine smile to Eggsy’s face, and he admits to himself that it scares him more than a little bit.

_____

Eggsy knows in the middle of the second day that he’s not okay. He knows his behavior isn’t healthy, he isn’t processing the trauma in a way that’s going to help. He’s been in this numb, unfeeling wasteland before, and he knows there’s a high chance he’ll be here again. 

The last time he felt this way, he’d go out, work his body to exhaustion at the gym, or go on a mission, do something productive. 

_I can’t do that anymore,_ Eggsy thinks. He doesn’t know when he’ll be able to find something to care about again. His passion feels fizzled, like he finally found his niche, the place where he belonged, only to have it ripped out from under his feet once he got comfortable. 

He’s falling.

_____

Eggsy looks up and realizes its 2pm. His coffee has long since gone cold, and he realizes he hasn’t had breakfast. 

It takes him 15 minutes to get himself off the couch. He aimlessly goes about making toast, finally sitting down and feeling absolutely wiped. He leans on the counter, wondering when making breakfast felt more exhausting than a full day of preventing eco-terrorism. 

He forces himself to eat, hating every bite. It tastes all wrong, is too dry, but the water he sips along with it does nothing to help. He eats one piece, and then half of another before pushing it away. It takes him 45 minutes. He rests his head on the counter and closes his eyes. 

_____

Eggsy wakes up one morning to realize a week has passed. He’s made enough contact with everyone to make sure that they all know he’s alive, or at least trying to be, but he doesn’t feel whole. He’s trying to focus inward, understanding what he needs, and also what will happen if he doesn’t get it. He lost his routine, which made it hard to remember what day it was and what he was supposed to be doing with his time. The past week, he thinks, has been nothing but being turned upside down again and again. 

Logically, Eggsy knows the signs were there, in a way. Looking back, it was clear that Merlin and Roxy had been hiding something from him, but he figured it wasn’t a huge deal. He thought that maybe the two had started a new, budding romance and were too nervous to tell him, or wanted to keep it private for a while. The weird, whispered conversations to each other, the looks across the hall; they all made a little more sense now. And each memory felt like a new stab to Eggsy’s gut. 

_It’s been a week,_ Eggsy thinks, over and over again, as if quantifying the aimless days he’s spent being a depressed mess would somehow make things better. He’s hardly even left the house, just enough to get groceries a few times, and even that was quick and minimal. His mum was due to bring Daisy by today, try and cheer him up a bit, but he wasn’t sure how nice of company he would be.

Eggsy knows he’s being overdramatic and amplifying the situation. Stewing in his own emotions and refusing to talk to anyone is going to solve, oh, zero of his current problems. And for fucks sake, he’s _in love_ with Harry. All he wants to do is forgive him, be able to move on, but how can he? How can he move on, forgive and forget, when Harry hid so much from him? Eggsy can’t even imagine what Harry must think of him. What kind of opinion can Harry even have of him, if he couldn’t even be trusted enough with this? Harry was his mentor, his friend. He’d stayed by Harry’s side for _weeks_ when he was in a coma, trained with him, and was prepared to die for him. Hell, Eggsy knows he would’ve died for Harry, if he’d only just asked. Eggsy would’ve done nearly anything if Harry asked.

And to know, to have proof, that Harry didn’t feel the same? Couldn’t even trust him with this? Couldn’t even let Eggsy know he was alive and didn’t bleed out on the hot pavement in Kentucky? But he could tell Roxy, someone who Harry had spoken to maybe twice in his life before then. How the hell else was Eggsy supposed to take it? Was he the only one that didn’t know? Had everyone been talking, lurking behind his back?

Eggsy thought Harry was different. Eggsy thought he could trust Harry, that he could love Harry. He never thought Harry would do this. 

And with that shuddering thought, Eggsy finally realized how little he knew about Harry. Eggsy felt like he had ripped himself open and allowed Harry to see inside, even in their short time together. Eggsy can now see that Harry never had the same feelings, never had the same openness that Eggsy brought with him to Kingsman. Did Harry even care for him, even consider him at all? Or was Eggsy just another piece of the puzzle, another recruit to train and look after?

Eggsy turned on the TV to silence his thoughts, once again having more questions than answers. 

_____

Eggsy’s mum’s visit was perfunctory at best. He could tell she was getting impatient and more sad by the growing concern in her eyes. He knew she was right, too. Healing wasn’t linear, but it was probably high time Eggsy showed up for something other than the soaps on the TV midday. 

He let his mum talk him into a walk around the block to a park where Daisy could play. It was a nice change of scenery, admittedly, the fresh(ish) air making him feel a little more human and less like a corpse which crawled out of a shallow grave. Listening to Daisy’s chatter about school and daycare was a nice relief, too. It reminded Eggsy that the world kept on turning, no matter how much it felt like his had ceased to exist. 

He couldn’t help but be extra vigilant to look for other agents spying on him. He wouldn’t put it past anyone at Kingsman to survey him, in fact, he was surprised he hadn’t noticed more signs already. As far as he could tell, though, nobody was seeking out his uninteresting life. Eggsy couldn’t tell if that was a blessing or curse.

“Do you think you’ll go back to the tailors, luv?” His mom asked after 10 or so minutes of sitting in comfortable silence, watching Daisy run and play with a few other young’uns. 

Eggsy took a deep breath. “I dunno.” He would be lying if he hadn’t thought about it. He knew the decision was all his, and he did love the job. But he didn’t know if he could carry on, pretending like Harry’s presence wasn’t going to impact him. 

Michelle put her hand on Eggsy’s arm, squeezed, and rubbed. Eggsy gave her a small grin. They went back to comfortable silence. 

_____

Two days later, Roxy showed up at his door, knocking incessantly. He thought about ignoring her and going on with his moping, but he could really use a friend. And for the knocking to stop.

“Eggsy! If you don’t open this door you know I’ll pick the lock,” she yelled. A few more knocks sounded. 

Just to be petty, Eggsy left her for a few moments. Then, he unlocked the door and walked away, not bothering to open it for her. He knew he was being childish, but he couldn’t help but be angry at all she had kept from him. 

She opened the door, looking flawlessly windswept in her smart slacks and blazer with a light blue blouse underneath, or Eggsy thought she did from the glance he shot her out of the corner of his eye while he was putting the kettle on. He got out two mugs and set them aside. He also set up the tea and let Roxy sit herself at the bar. 

There was a long moment of silence. Eggsy stared at the kettle. 

“You know, a watched pot never boils,” Roxy said, breaking the silence. Eggsy lifted his head and made a small sound of agreement. 

“Look,” Roxy started, already sounding frustrated, “I know you’re angry, okay? And I don’t blame you. I know how much Harry means to you.”

Eggsy slowly turned to look at her. He narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath, biting his lip to keep his anger from rising. He took his time finding his words.

“Yes, Roxy. I’m hurt.” 

Roxy let out a loud breath of her own and her poker face started to crack. “Eggsy,” she started, sounding as emotional and broken as Eggsy thought he’d seen her. “You have to know how much I wanted to tell you.” Eggsy raised an eyebrow, looking unconvinced. “I know you don’t believe me, and I don’t blame you. But I wasn’t allowed. Merlin forbid it.”

Eggsy let out another breath and felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders. 

“I know,” he said quietly. He knew this wasn’t Roxy’s fault. Deep down, past the hurt, he knew she was just one of the lackeys. Sure, she could’ve broken the rules and told him, but she was just as new as him, still trying to find her place and prove herself. Probably more so, as a woman. 

He wanted to be angry. Scream, cry, act like a child (or most men his age). But he couldn’t. He just felt… numb.

In that moment, Eggsy made his decision about his future at Kingsman. He knew what he was going to do. 

_____

That afternoon, after Roxy left, Eggsy got dressed for the first time in over a week, went down to the corner store, and bought himself a pack of smokes. He’d kicked the habit when he started training, not having the time or energy to keep up the addiction, but he found himself smiling at the thought of doing something Harry would never approve of. After all, in his line of work life expectancies went down dramatically. No use in preventing himself from indulging because of health. 

He smoked two on his way to Kingsman, taking his time to leisurely stroll through the streets, feeling as alive as he had in weeks. He smiled to himself, letting the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling. 

In those few moments chatting with Roxy, Eggsy came to the realization that he really needed to stop caring. The world did nothing but throw shit at him day in and day out, leaving him only enough time to come up for air before punching him in the gut with another heaping pile of shit. He couldn’t catch a break. 

So, why even try?

All he could do was control his own actions. And, he had a decent job now, at least. One that paid well, for sure. Mum and Daisy would be taken care of even if Michelle decided never to work again.

So Eggsy knew what he had to do. It was a no-brainer, really.

Once he reached the shop, Eggsy shot himself an almost manic grin in the reflection of the store window and opened the door. He was going to throw himself into his work and _really_ go off the deep end. 

_____

One of Merlin’s best qualities was his ability to act as if nothing was wrong, when clearly, a _lot_ was wrong. He and Eggsy hadn’t spoken in over a week, and yet Merlin simply glanced up at Eggsy with a blank face when he walked into Merlin’s office. He didn’t offer an apology or ask how Eggsy was doing, but they all knew that Eggsy was ace at hiding his feelings when he wanted to be. Nobody would ever know anything was wrong. 

“Send me on a mission, guv,” Eggsy said without formality. 

Merlin simply raised a brow before going back to his desktop and striking a few keys. He handed Eggsy a file and said “be ready in an hour,” before giving him a once over, turning away and going back to whatever the fuck it was he did all day. Probably maneuvering some of the most skilled agents into and out of the lion’s den if Eggsy had any guess.

He gave Merlin a cheeky wink and shut the door on his way out.

_____

Eggsy made his way to his office and read over the mission file. Pretty simple, in and out intel gathering operation. He was going to Sokovia, breaking into an abandoned warehouse, and getting out unnoticed and unscathed. Simple enough, Eggsy thought.

After reading over the file, he decided to consider what he was going to do about Harry. He had a few options ranging from the silent treatment to going full on ballistic, but Eggsy knew Harry well enough to think about what would get under his skin the most. Oh yes, Eggsy was going to be as professional and perfunctory as humanly possible. He wasn’t going to let Harry in, no matter how hard he tried. Shut Eggsy off and you get chopped, bruv. From now on, they were merely two agents that worked at the same agency; no more, no less. 

Eggsy pulled out another smoke and opened a window, another borderline deranged grin plastered on his face while he lit it. He chuckled to himself while he took a drag, thinking about how he must look like a picturesque version of a villain right now. The thought made him smile even wider. 

_____  
  


Eggsy’s mission in Sokovia went over with only minimal hitches. He made sure not to get caught on the way in, got the intel he was set to gather, but on the way out, things took a turn. 

Eggsy wasn’t sure if his handler was just on their 15 or what, because there had been nothing but radio silence since he got into the base. Not that he minded, he was feeling more than a little reckless on this mission, and the thrill of the unknown was exactly what he needed to get his adrenaline pumping in the most unhealthy of ways. 

He ran point blank into a guard, barely missed a shot fired right at his head, and put his quick thinking to the test. Kicking out at the guard’s legs, he watched as the bulky figure tumbled to the ground, before giving him a punt to the hands in order to get his gun away. Eggsy had a firearm of his own, multiple in fact, but he decided not to draw them out as the guard rose. The guard quickly took a fighting stance and stuck a decent jab to Eggsy’s gut. 

“Gawain,” rang out in his ears, “incoming.”

_No shit,_ Eggsy thought to himself. _A little late on that one, mate!_ He rolled his eyes to himself and quickly knocked out the guard with a roundhouse kick. He grabbed the guard’s discarded pistol and took off down the hall. Only to run into another 5 guards, each pointing guns at him. 

“Shit,” he hissed to himself. That must’ve caught his handler’s attention, because they were finally speaking into his ear.

“Take your next right,” they said, and Eggsy almost hesitated to follow, chasing the rush of a fight and taking a punch. The split second of hesitation caused a bullet to ricochet off his left arm. The force threw him into the opposite wall as he was turning, but he used the momentum to push himself off and continue down the hall. He was almost upset that he’d worn a bullet proof suit today, craving the pain and blood of a minor gunshot wound. 

Instead, Eggsy continued to follow his handler's instructions out of the building and avoided any more conflict. Merlin was not often fond of him getting into trouble where there was none, and this honestly was a pretty simple mission. If Eggsy hadn’t been itching for a fight, he wouldn’t have even slipped up enough to let anyone know of his presence. He was certain he could’ve gotten in and out of that warehouse undisturbed, even with the one guard surprising him. 

He wasn’t going to pretend like he didn’t enjoy it, though. He wasn’t sure how else he was going to deal with the pain and hurt in his personal life. He wasn’t good at much in life, but he was good at his job, good at being a Kingsman. Even if it wasn’t fully official yet, Eggsy knew it was just a matter of time before an Arthur was appointed before he could be sworn in officially. 

Honestly… That may have been the whole reason why Harry was in Arthur’s office in the first place. Maybe all the emotional heartache was suppressing some of his common sense, but he hadn’t yet pieced together the reason why the three of them were gathered in Arthur’s old office. Eggsy knew that Merlin was occasionally in there, for whatever reason, but now that Eggsy thought a little harder, he hadn’t ever seen Merlin _behind_ the desk. 

So… Harry was the new Arthur. 

And Eggsy was still out of the fucking loop. 

He found himself getting more and more frustrated as he stewed on the flight home. Even though he wasn’t exactly craving one, he couldn’t pull out a cigarette to pass his time. He couldn’t sleep, too wound up on adrenaline and this newfound lie that Eggsy felt he uncovered. Well, lie might not have been the best word, but it was definitely a secret that had been kept from him for… Well, he still wasn’t sure how long he’d been kept in the dark. 

Which maybe was all the more point. Roxy had said so very little during her visit, just that Harry was alive, somewhat recovered, and she wasn’t allowed to inform him. Eggsy wasn’t over the hurt, stabbing feeling he got whenever he thought about walking into that room, so he didn’t inquire after Harry further. He was too busy swallowing his pain.

___

Eggsy seriously considered marching up to Harry, demanding to know the whole story and why he would keep Eggsy out of the loop, but by the time the plane landed, Eggsy’s whole body felt like molasses. He hadn’t been able to sleep on the plane, but he couldn’t recall what he’d spent the time doing, either. All he knew was his legs felt like lead underneath him. 

He forced himself to make his way home, thankfully running into nobody at the late hour, before shrugging off a few articles of clothing and crawling into bed. 

He slept for hours. Much longer than he needed, Eggsy knew, the few times he surfaced to look at the clock again. Every time he saw the hour, he briefly considered getting up before his body was pulled into sleep again.

He woke the next day to a banging on his door, which he ignored for some time and tried to go back to sleep. When the noise would not quit, and the person started yelling his name, Eggsy finally dragged himself out of bed. He pulled the door open just as Roxy was pulling out her lockpick, blearily staring at Roxy. Roxy looked at him with an odd expression, brows pulled tight. 

“Are you still in bed?” Roxy asked as Eggsy moved aside and let her in. 

“Yeah, so?” Eggsy replied. 

“Eggsy… It’s nearly three in the afternoon. You were supposed to debrief with Merlin at noon.”

Eggsy simply stared at her and shrugged. “And? It was just a fuckin’ intel mission, Rox. S’not exactly high on the list of priorities.” He ran a hand through his hair, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into bed and let sleep overtake him. 

Roxy was silent for a long beat. “And what time did you get in?” She asked.

“Dunno. Midnight, I think?”

Roxy’s brows continued to furl. Eggsy thinks it’s the most emotion that he’s seen her show since before V-Day. 

“So… You’ve been asleep for, what, thirteen hours?”

Eggsy shrugged and sat at one of the counter stools. He didn’t have the heart to tell her it’d actually been closer to thirteen and-a-half hours, and he showed no sign of wanting to get back to mainstream life. He stifled a yawn. 

“Eggsy… are you feeling alright?” Roxy asked. She sounded a little strange, not bothering to mask the concern in her voice. 

“I dunno,” Eggsy answered, feeling a bit defensive. “Jus’ tired, I guess.”

“Okay…” Roxy said hesitantly. “I’ll… leave you to it, I guess.” She glanced in her purse, giving Eggsy a brief smile before she let herself out the door. 

He locked the door and went straight back to bed, not caring to think about the odd conversation any longer.

_____

Eggsy didn’t have time to think much more about Roxy’s visit, because before he knew it, he was balls deep in a youtube rabbit hole a few days later; this time, drag queens were on the docket.

Eggsy wasn’t really one that was particularly interested in makeup, or drag in general, though he had nothing against the craft, but there was something soothing about watching people plaster their faces with paint and magically become a new person. Eggsy wishes he could do that, most days. A well tailored suit, a nice pair of oxfords, and some hair gel used to make him feel like a completely different person - he started to become Galahad, in a way - but ever since Harry came back all Eggsy could see when he looked in the mirror were the bags under his eyes and the increasingly dirty sheen to his hair. Eggsy could’ve sworn that he showered just the other day… No more than a day or so, he was almost sure of it. Yet, his hair retained this greasy shine that it hadn’t before. 

He kept pushing those thoughts to the back of his head, continuing to force himself to eat at least a piece of toast or something equally as easy to make every day. He was halfway through watching Juno Birch’s beau apply her makeup, stunnin’ as always, when his phone rang. It wasn’t his mum, so he wasn’t entirely sure who would be disturbing him at… 3pm on a Thursday. 

“‘Ello?” He answered, feeling a twinge of irritation starting to curl up his spine at the forced interaction with another human. He glared at the paused screen of his laptop, sincerely glad nobody could see him acting like a child. Eggsy felt that way a lot, these days.

“Gawain, you’re needed at HQ,” Merlin replied gruffly. His tone left little room for argument, though Eggsy was sorely tempted to test it out anyway.

Eggsy did not resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Roger that, boss,” he said sarcastically, enunciating each word perfectly. Merlin hung up without another word.

Eggsy forced himself to get ready and decided to walk to HQ instead of taking a taxi, partially to irritate Merlin and partially to make sure he had at least 2 cigarettes in his system before whatever it was Merlin wanted to talk to him about. He didn’t bother dressing to the nines, pulling on a pair of black jeans, a green t-shirt, and a grey jacket.

He made his way into the building, onto the bullet train, and knocked twice before opening and stepping into Merlin’s office.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

Merlin was seated at his desk, eyes and fingers flying over the monitor in front of him, with Harry perched at his side. Eggsy had to take a deep breath before schooling his features, hoping his ragged expression and disgruntled demeanor was concealed. He almost narrowed his eyes, but stopped himself at the last second. 

“Arthur, sir,” Eggsy greeted. By now it was confirmed; Harry had taken up the Arthur mantle, leaving the Galahad moniker empty in its place. Eggsy still thought about requesting the Galahad name, when he was eventually knighted in full, a hope he had after Harry’s not-death. The thought almost left a bitter taste in his mouth. “Merlin.” He nodded to the quartermaster and clenched his jaw. 

“Sit down, lad,” Merlin replied, without looking up from his computer. Eggsy sat, crossing one ankle over his knee and folding his hands in his lap. He felt tense, ready to snap, from his shoulders down to his heels. He hadn’t seen Harry since that day he ran out of the office, only coming in briefly when required. Otherwise, he had made himself scarce, normally holding up in his apartment and sleeping at odd hours of the day, missing calls from his mom, and staring at blank walls for hours on end. 

He stared straight at Merlin, refusing to even glance at Harry. He tried his best not to scowl, but he wasn’t honestly sure how successful he was. Better than than tears, at least.

Merlin raised an eyebrow, held his gaze for a beat, then pulled out a manila folder which he slid across the desk.

“A mission for you,” he said. Harry stayed silent. So did Eggsy. Merlin let out an audible sigh, shooting Harry a withering glance, before continuing on with the mission parameters.

_____

Eggsy barely made it to his office before the tears came. 

He was holding them back the entire meeting, barely able to focus on the words Merlin was saying, all his energy going into masking his feelings of hurt and betrayal. Logically, he knew he was going to see Harry sooner rather than later, and though he knew he hadn’t exactly given the man the most warm welcome, he thought Harry knew him better than that. Knew that he would be hurting, lying awake at night wondering what he had done wrong. Why Harry seemed to trust him so little, so much less than everyone around him. Why he had been left out of the loop.

He burst through the doors to his office, shifted the lock into place, and crawled under his desk, knees pressed to his chest. He had less than a half an hour to get his shit together and get on a plane to America for this mission. But he couldn’t get over the stabbing feeling in his chest, the absolute hurt he felt with every fiber of his being. He felt like he was dying.

Eggsy put his head between his knees and focused on his breathing. _In … one, two, three, four, five… Out, one, two, three, four, five._

He sat like this for five more minutes, considered calling someone to help him calm down, remembered that he was a burden on everyone in his life, and took out a cigarette to light. He took a glance in a mirror, went to his en suite and washed his face off, and did his best to not let his eyes look completely dead. On his way to the plane, he realized that he never even opened the mission file. 

_Oh well,_ he thought, trying not to let his thoughts spiral into complete chaos, _what are plane rides for?_

It wasn’t even until later, when the flight was almost over, that Eggsy realized he didn’t even have his usual bulletproof garb on. He’d at least had time to crack open the mission folder and familiarize himself with his task. 

This didn’t look like a super long mission, he was going to America proper in order to do some follow up with a cartel running drugs and possibly something more sinister in the south, but there were theories that their reach was much farther. Eggsy heard there was even some election rigging going on, which didn’t surprise him but was not a positive circumstance by any means. To make matters worse, there were rumors floating around connecting the gang to a human trafficking ring, which still made Eggsy sick to his stomach every time he read something like that. Unfortunately, it wasn’t his first dance with this kind of evil, but it made him think about reaching for another glass of scotch or another ciggy a little bit quicker. 

Eggsy was glad that someone remembered to stick his go bag on the plane, because otherwise he would’ve been on his own with only one set of clothing and his wallet to keep him going. Wouldn’t be the first time by far, but he could do without the experience of ill-fitting, cheap clothing for at least a week. Again.

By the time he was stepping off the jet, he was ready to get back to his lodgings (he was pretty sure Merlin at least booked him a hotel, but he tried to never get too comfortable) and unpack to take stock of his week’s supply of clothing and other necessities. For the life of him he couldn’t remember what his go-bag had in it, but he thought that he might’ve taken the only other bulletproof material out of it. He was almost certain he had a rainmaker somewhere, at least, so that would be something. Although, an umbrella with such a casual outfit didn’t always blend in the best. Eggsy may have to rely on his intuition for this one. 

_____

A week later, almost exactly, Eggsy found himself bloodied, beaten, and restrained in a cold, dark cellar. He’d started the week in Kentucky, apparently the location having become a favorite of Kingsman after Harry’s little rendezvous, but he could have been transported anywhere in the area by now. 

Eggsy cursed himself for the dozenth time that hour, wishing he hadn’t been so reckless. Though, admittedly, it did take his mind off Harry, if only a little. He was selfishly hoping that Harry was half a world away worrying about him. He told himself that it would have been fine to know Harry was worrying about him as an agent, but he knew deep down this was a lie. 

Maybe, Eggsy thought to himself, he did this on purpose. To get back at Harry. To show Harry how far he could push it, how reckless he could be in the face of a mission. Maybe he was hoping for a verbal lashing, like an elder sibling getting into trouble just to have their parent’s attention again. Eggsy thought it wouldn’t be too far off. For all the bullshit he found himself in the past few years, none of it was quite as life threatening and extreme as this scenario.

And what’s even worse? Eggsy knew he could have prevented it.

His last mission should have given him an indication, a warning, of his increasing desperation and lack of regard for his own physical safety. But, of course, Eggsy was never one to have the _best_ common sense when it came to himself, innit? He could take care of himself if it meant helping out others, but for his own good, Eggsy had never been one to model self-preservation. 

A week before, when he stepped off the plane, Eggsy hadn’t had many other thoughts aside from getting to his hotel and maybe passing out for a good few hours if he was lucky. Life, of course, had other plans. Merlin immediately got on his case, telling him to start setting up his cover identity. Every word he said made Eggsy’s shoulders tense more and more. At the end of his speech he had to physically bite his tongue to prevent himself from making a scathing remark. He followed Merlin’s instructions to a T, internally replaying about 30 different comebacks he could have made that more accurately represented his feelings. 

He lit up another smoke once he got to the bar Melin directed, surveying the area. They weren’t sure if the mark, or any of his associates, would even be in the building tonight, but Eggsy knew he wasn going to have to keep himself busy in order to stay awake. 

Eggsy was met with a pointed silence once he lit up. 

“Since when do you smoke?” Merlin asked in a way a lesser agent would have chalked up to an offhand comment. 

Eggsy took another drag, then one more, and flicked some ash off, considering his response. “Since always,” he replied. It was nowhere near the truth (Eggsy had his first cigarette when he was 12, and life generally went downhill from there), but hopefully it would be enough to keep Merlin from breathing down his neck. Didn’t the guy have other agents to look over, anyway?

Eggsy twisted his head to crack his neck before stubbing out his butt with the heel of his trainer. He picked it up and threw it in a trashcan, because he may be a smoker, but a litterbug he was not. 

Once inside, Eggsy got straight to blending in while also allowing his eyes to search every inch of the place, identify the exits… and see the mark sitting right in the middle. 

“Eyes on the target,” Eggsy says as he waits for a scotch and soda he ordered. He went over the information he had read in the folder, trying to assess his next move.

He knew the ring was well organized, but some internal struggles were leaving them vulnerable to change. If they could succeed in taking out the mark, that might be enough turmoil to throw their whole ring off balance. 

And, if in a move of sheer desperation and lack of thinking, Eggsy was able to take out the mark tonight… Well Eggsy could be back home and in his own room, catching up on some lack of sleep with a good few days in bed. For a job well done, or whatever excuse Eggsy could come up with to let himself completely zone out for two straight days. 

His scotch and soda was slid across the bar to him, he smiled and winked at the bartender with a “cheers” before raising an eyebrow to himself at the interesting plan he just came up with.

“Gawain, do not engage,” Merlin said hastily.

Eggsy almost spat out his drink. “What? Why? He’s right _fuckin’_ there!”

“Gawain don’t take that tone with me. Do not engage, that’s an order.”

Eggsy almost rolled his eyes, downing the rest of his drink in one go. He’d been in this joint for ten minutes and he was already about to crawl out of his own skin, itching to do something and get on with his job. The mark was only a few hundred yards away. Surely, Eggsy should be able to do something subtle. 

Deep down, Eggsy knew he trusted Merlin with his life. Despite the huge secret the man had been keeping from him (which Eggsy basically just refused to mention, at this point), Eggsy knew Merlin generally had his own safety, as well as the world’s safety, at the forefront of his mind. 

However, Eggsy had been on edge for weeks. He’s been practically gagging for a fight, something raw and hot like pain to take him out of his mind for a few minutes at least. Some adrenaline to make him feel a little more alive and a little less like a walking sack of flesh. 

He licked his lips in thought, eyes still glued to the mark.

Too late, Eggsy realized he’d been a little too obvious. A few big, bulky men on the outskirts of the room shifted while eyeing him suspiciously. 

_Might just get my fight anyways,_ Eggsy thought to himself. 

_____

Queue to an indeterminate amount of time later, Eggsy finds himself alone in a concrete room. There’s only one small window in a corner. He can’t see anything; it’s obvious he’s in a basement from the view of the window well. He’s strapped to a chair with twist ties. 

Oh yeah… he’s also got a few bloody wounds, most notably a gunshot graze on his left deltoid. It’s been bleeding like a motherfucker, and Eggsy had been cursing himself for not changing into the one bulletproof suit he was pretty sure might have been tucked away in his go-bag, and this wound was _seriously_ impeding his ability to break out of the zipties. 

He’d also collected a few bruises from being a loudmouth during his interrogation. His right cheek was definitely swollen and bruises no doubt littered his chest. Eggsy wished he could say the pain was almost a release, the comfort he’d been searching for since he walked into the fucking room a month ago. The pain (and his surroundings) just made him feel more hollow, more alone. 

He glances down at the blood-soaked material of his shirt and tries to remember how many days he’s been in here.


	2. Chapter 2

Queue to an indeterminate amount of time later, Eggsy finds himself alone in a concrete room. There’s only one small window in a corner. He can’t see anything; it’s obvious he’s in a basement from the view of the window well. He’s strapped to a chair with zip ties. 

Oh yeah… he’s also got a few bloody wounds, most notably a gunshot graze on his left deltoid. It’s been bleeding like a motherfucker, and Eggsy had been cursing himself for not changing into the one bulletproof suit he was pretty sure might have been tucked away in his go-bag, and this wound was _seriously_ impeding his ability to break out of the zip ties. 

He’d also collected a few bruises from being a loudmouth during his interrogation. His right cheek was definitely swollen and bruises no doubt littered his chest. Eggsy wished he could say the pain was almost a release, the comfort he’d been searching for since he walked into the fucking room a month ago. The pain (and his surroundings) just made him feel more hollow, more alone. 

He glances down at the blood-soaked material of his shirt and tries to remember how many days he’s been in here.

_____

After a week (he thinks), Eggsy starts going a little mad. He’s starving, they barely feed him once a day, and he’s filthy. Even if he wasn’t a smoker, he’s not sure his nose is going to work after this experience. Not to mention the few punches he’s added to his collection from his captors. 

He isn’t even sure when the last time he slept was. He can’t be certain he’s slept at all, but he knows he blacks out sometimes, because he’ll come to lying on his side or on the opposite end of the room. 

Soon after, he starts hallucinating. At first, it’s just a few voices that he could write off as echos or someone outside in the hall. After they start calling his name, though, he’s _pretty_ sure he’s going a bit bonkers. 

At one point, Elton John (but, like, 25 year old Elton John) comes to him dressed as Jesus singing some song he hardly remembers from primary school. He’s pretty sure good ‘ol Elton didn’t write it, but at this point he’s not trusting his judgement on anything. (The hallucination doesn’t sound bad, though. Pretty good, actually.)

He finds himself laughing hysterically, then crying just as hard in the changing of a breath. 

At one point, he swears he sees and hears Harry come into the room. He thinks he hears Harry tell him that he was in love with Eggsy, always had been. Tears form in the corner of Eggsy’s eyes and roll down his cheeks, both wishing with all his might it was real, and knowing in the small part of his brain that still functions that it’s not possible. Harry hasn’t even spoken to Eggsy technically since… Well, since after the dog test, really. In the back of his mind, he’s been hoping that Harry might eventually show up and save him. Proper knight in shining armor and all.

Eggsy’s never been one to think that Harry would ever save him, from anything ever, but his brain desperately wants some relief from the pain, both physical and emotional. If imagining Harry and dreaming of different possibilities where he comes in to see his sad figure and starts weeping, saying that he’s sorry and he loves Eggsy… Well, who is he to deny his brain anything at this point?

He starts laughing again when a guard comes in to drop his daily meal on the floor.

_____

After day 10 or so, Eggsy finally started to dissociate. He was sleeping (he thinks) at least a little bit. The little bit of light coming in from outside made it seem like his captors at least had some sort of day job, since they appeared to give him his meal in the evening. Eggsy also figured out he was on the south side of the building, but he still had no idea how to even try to escape.

The torture was being more spaced out, but curiously Eggsy had yet to see the mark come in here himself to ‘chat’. It was possible he’d snuck in when Eggsy was either blacked out, asleep, or completely out of his mind, but Eggsy thought it was unlikely. Based on what he read in the report, this guy would not have wanted or allowed Eggsy to be passed out for an encounter. Just a lucky guess.

But, Eggsy allowed himself to go to a happy place, some obscure thing he’d seen in a video game one, where he was simply a farmer trying to water his crops, cut down some trees, and get some milk and eggs if he was lucky. Eggsy wasn’t sure if he was just continuing to go mad or if the pixelation of his vision was real.

He really needed to get out of here. 

Up until this point, Eggsy was at least somewhat confident that Kingsman would get him out sooner rather than later. He’s never been on an extended mission where he was captured, but it was almost worse now that his injuries had a little time to heal. After what he thought was about 5 days, he started to have his doubts. 

Eggsy never considered that Kingsman wasn’t looking for him. It would be odd, no doubt, something Eggsy would never have anticipated but… He did disobey direct orders. Maybe they didn’t have the manpower to spare, and Harry, Merlin, and Roxy couldn’t be bothered to come themselves for some reason. This group _could_ be exceptionally good at their job, but unless they’re completely tech-free Merlin would find some way to get in their systems. Eggsy thought, at least. Or hoped. 

He was feeling a bit more clear headed, maybe since he could finally tell the days apart if only a little, he was feeling a bit more grounded. Maybe it had to do with how rank he was, and somehow that was grounding him into reality. Like really awful smelling salts. Whatever the reason, Eggsy felt himself slowly snap into his role as agent again. 

After tightening the zip ties as much as he could, enough to hurt, he used all the force he could generate to swing his hands away from the chair. It took him a few tries, but he did eventually get out. Once he broke free, he realized he really didn’t know how to open the door, which was a much larger problem than the few pieces of plastic confining him to a chair. 

He cautiously got up to investigate, pacing around the door. By his estimates, he was pretty sure nobody would be by anytime soon, since it was morning. Still, though, unless he could somehow figure out how to unlock this door with the plastic plate they gave him his meals on, he was fucked.

Eggsy cursed under his breath. He went over to his empty plate and found the plastic fork they gave him, hoping for some sort of miracle, but on such luck. He merely broke the fork in the seam of the door, pretty much immediately. 

“Fuck,” Eggsy said to himself, trying to rethink his options. 

He eventually settled down on the floor, resigning himself to wait. 

_____

Eggsy fell asleep on the floor. He didn’t mean to, of course, but maybe the slight change in positioning or glimpse of freedom being ripped away made him extra exhausted. Regardless, he definitely fucked himself over, as his captors came in, found him out of his chair and on the ground, and got pissed.

Very pissed.

Pissed enough to shoot Eggsy on the flank, opposite to his light flesh wound. He screamed as he went down.

They left him there, lying in a pool of his own blood. Eggsy didn’t even have a chance to fight back. 

_____

Eggsy lost time, again, after that. He no longer tried to count the days, or even tell what time it was. 

Day, hours, maybe even minutes after he was shot again, he heard commotion in the hallways. He was weak, they’d withheld his meal (meals?) from him since he’d escaped his chair. He hadn’t even tried to move from the pool of blood he was lying in, now somewhat dried. He’d at least taken his shirt off and bunched it on the wound by tying it tight around his waist, occasionally adding pressure to the wound.

The commotion got closer, or Eggsy thought it did. He wouldn’t be surprised if Harry came to him, confessing his undying love again. As a figure of Eggsy’s imagination, of course. 

The closer the noises get, however, Eggsy starts to swear he recognizes them. He tries (and fails) not to get his hopes up, especially because he’s heard voices of those he loves for days. But, as the commotion draws closer, Eggsy can’t convince himself that Roxy isn’t somewhere in the hallway kicking ass. 

Eggsy perks up at footsteps getting closer. He lifts his head off the ground as much as he can, trying to prop himself up but hissing when it tugs on the wound in his side. The footsteps stop at the door, and Eggsy considers screaming, but he holds himself back, just in case something or someone worse is behind the door. 

He hears some indistinct chatter, another pair of footsteps, maybe two, and some banging. 

Finally, the door pops open with a loud clang. Eggsy startles a bit, in the far corner of the room, and squints his eyes at the sudden amount of light filtering into the room. It leaves the new figures in a shadow for a few seconds, until they flood into the room and toward him.

Roxy, Harry, and Merlin stand before him, all looking rather concerned. Eggsy can’t help but think to the last time all three of them were in a room together, admittedly brief. 

“Eggsy,” Roxy says, rushing toward him. Harry isn’t far behind her, but Merlin lingers in the doorway. 

Roxy begins tending to his wounds, and Harry carefully kneels down next to him. He whispers Eggsy’s name almost reverently, like he can’t believe Eggsy is really in front of him. Harry’s hand comes to rest on the side of his face, a thumb brushing over his cheeks and into his hair. Eggsy feels like an electric current runs through him. 

“We… we thought…” Harry starts, unable to finish. Although Eggsy hasn’t really eaten in who knows how long, and has a considerable amount of blood loss, he swears he sees tears well up in Harry’s eyes. 

He doesn’t have the forethought to think about why Harry would be crying before he lets his head fall to the ground and closes his eyes. 

_____

Eggsy wakes up in a hospital room. At least, he assumes he’s in a hospital room based on the blinding white lights on the ceiling and the sterile smell surrounding him. He also hears the faint beeping of a machine, which can only point to so many locations. 

He takes a few deep breaths and blinks multiple times, debating just shutting his eyes and going back to sleep. Seriously debated. Full on rebuttal, opening, and closing statement debate.

Ultimately his curiosity won, because the person he could hear breathing in one of the chairs in his room might dictate the number of hours he goes back to sleep for.

He turned his head slowly because he was pretty sure there were more than a few pain meds coursing through his system (blissfully). He blinked his eyes open and saw Harry sitting cross-legged in one of the godawful uncomfortable hospital chairs. He was filing paperwork in one of his suits, looking unbothered and unrumpled as one could. Eggsy couldn’t tell if he was glad or dreading this interaction.

Harry looked… well, gorgeous, of course. Hair slightly slicked back but loose enough that he had a few curls flowing through his hair. Waves, more like. Almost looked like he did them each individually, perfecting them, with how artful they looked. Or maybe Eggsy was just completely and utterly gone on Harry, which could be a valid explanation. Probably was, honestly.

Harry also had his glasses on and a briefcase by the legs of his chair. His pen also looked expensive, somehow, with elegant gold accents among the deep mahogany cap and base. Real wood, too. Eggsy wouldn’t be surprised if it costs as much as rent back at his old flat, but he tried not to think about it too hard. Harry had the tip poised on his bottom lip, not quite chewing, but just resting comfortably while he read over the document. Eggsy felt his breath catch at how elegant and gorgeous Harry looked. Last time they (almost) met, Eggsy hadn’t been inclined to stay too long. He hadn’t forgotten how beautiful Harry was by any means, but he definitely had lost some of the finer details to memory and possibly pain. 

Harry’s eyes flicked to his and Eggsy saw them perk and brighten immediately. He thought maybe the drugs were working their way through his system, making him see things, but Harry shifted forward and whispered “Eggsy,” with enthusiasm. 

Eggsy cleared his throat, which prompted Harry to grab him a glass of water resting on his bedside table. Eggsy reached out his arm to capture the water and slowly move it to his mouth, which was feeling almost as rank as he had the past few weeks. He drank half the glass in a few gulps and then sips when he realized gulping was not a good idea. 

When he handed the glass back to Harry, the bright look and slight smile on his face had not dulled. Eggsy briefly entertains the idea that _he_ was the one putting it there. The thought made him feel a little red in the face.

Harry cleared his throat a few times. “How are you feeling?” he asked. 

Eggsy sat in silence for a few more moments because his brain was feeling foggy. “Fine,” he settled on, glancing back over to Harry. Harry smiled and looked down at his hands, which were now fiddling with each other between his spread legs. 

“You had us quite worried there,” he said, glancing back to Eggsy. 

Eggsy snorts and looks down at his lap. His hands have found their way to his midsection as well, intertwining and rubbing against each other nervously. He isn’t sure where to go from here. He isn’t sure how to tell Harry how he feels, how he really feels. He isn’t sure how to describe the clawing, empty feeling he’s had since he watched Harry get shot in the head, let alone the sick feeling in his gut he’s had ever since he found out Harry was alive and at least somewhat well. Silence stretched on for a few beats longer than was comfortable. 

A nurse came in to relieve the tension. She looked over Eggsy’s wounds and changed the dressing before grabbing his chart and jotting down a few different readings from the machines. She asked Eggsy a few cursory questions about how he was feeling, a warm smile on her face. Eggsy thought it was the first time he’d felt someone act genuine toward him in… weeks.

He suddenly remembered a question that plagued him frequently during his mission. “What day is it?” he asked the nurse. Her smile faltered for a second and then she took a glance down at the watch on her wrist. 

“It’s the 23rd, sir,” she replied. “I’ll have someone bring you something to eat, soon. After that we can give you some more pain medication.”

She put the chart back in its place and left the room. Eggsy looked at the wall in front of him and thought for a few seconds, brain working extra slowly.

He’d left for his mission on the 9th, he was pretty sure. Not certain, of course, because the days had been bleeding together before then, but. He squinted at the wall as the cogs turned.

“Two weeks,” Harry said from the corner. Eggsy slowly turned his head to look at the other man. “They had you for two weeks.”

Eggsy nodded slowly, not sure why Harry looked like he was about to be sick. Harry took his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes. Eggsy felt uncomfortable in the prolonged silence. 

“So… I guess congratulations are in order,” he said at last. Harry looked puzzled. “Your… you got a promotion. You’se Arthur now.” Eggsy temporarily forgot that he was supposed to be strictly professional. He blamed it on the drugs, but honestly, he was too tired to hide. The silence was also turning stiffening, making him agitated. 

Harry looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “Yes… Yes I suppose,” he said after a pregnant pause. Seemed to be a theme today, long pauses and awkward silences. Eggsy had no idea how to break it. 

Thankfully another nurse came in and set a tray on his table, asking him if he needed anything else while helping Eggsy prop his bed up. Eggsy told the man no, thank you, and he was out again. He looked down at his meal, a hearty serving of chicken noodle soup and a small salad. He’d always loved chicken noodle soup; it made him feel warm and fuzzy after a long day of hardship. Also, it was one of the easiest things to cook when he had no other energy for anything else and couldn’t force himself to call for takeout, which happened more often than he cared to admit in recent weeks. He picked up his spoon and started eating, trying to enjoy the silence rather than find it unbearable. The slurping sounds he was making while trying to eat his soup weren’t helping much. 

He glanced over at Harry every so often, but the other man just continued to stare at his own hands. A few minutes into the silence only broken by Eggsy’s slurps, Roxy rushed through the door with a huff. Eggsy had a spoonful of soup paused halfway to his mouth when she walked in, drawing his eyes to her. He definitely looked like the most suspicious hospital patient… ever. 

“Eggsy!” she exclaimed, sounding almost breathless. Eggsy raised his eyebrows and put his spoonful of soup back into the cup. 

“Hey, Rox.” 

She sat her bag down on the ground and pulled a chair up to his bedside, seeming to ignore Harry’s presence. That made Eggsy quirk his lips up in a smile. 

“You had us worried _sick_.”

“I’m… sorry?” Eggsy said uncertainly, not quite sure what Roxy was wanting from him. 

Roxy rolled her eyes. “It’s not your fault, dumbass.” She glanced over at the other side of the room, narrowing her eyes at Harry. “Scram, boss-man,” she said with a no-nonsense attitude. Eggsy admired the steel pair of… reproductive organs on her. 

Harry raised an eyebrow like he was going to say something, even opened his mouth to start, then thought better of it and snapped it closed. He nodded, grabbed his briefcase, and left the room by pulling the door shut behind him.

Eggsy felt more confused than he did when he woke up. 

“Eggsy,” Roxy said earnestly, “I’m sorry.” She had tears swimming through her vision, threatening to spill over at any minute. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you about Harry. I know how much he means to you, I knew I never should have kept it from you.”

“I know, Rox,” Eggsy said simply, suddenly feeling more exhausted than he had in weeks. “It’s not your fault.” He didn’t want to have this conversation. 

Roxy looked down and Eggsy saw a tear fall from her lash onto the floor. 

“I just… I just couldn’t believe it. You were gone for a _long_ time, Eggsy.”

“Yeah, two weeks.”

Roxy leveled him with a stare. “You’ve been out of it for much longer than that.”

Eggsy shrugged, not offering up any more information. He went back to his soup before it got cold. 

Roxy didn’t push him anymore, but she did fill the air with useless chatter that had been going on at HQ, how everyone reacted to his capture. She didn’t mention Harry, or Arthur, at all, for which Eggsy was grateful. Just her company and presence felt refreshing, like they’d finally gotten over the awkwardness of her keeping such a big secret from him. 

He meant what he said. It wasn’t her fault. 

_____

Eggsy, predictably, was subjected to mandatory therapy. He wasn’t entirely thrilled, especially as he’d just gotten out of the hospital, but Roxy had left him another pack of his favorite smokes at his apartment, so he couldn’t say no. The first few nights at home, Eggsy was going full school vacation vibes, meaning he hardly left the house. He’d pop out on his balcony occasionally for a smoke, enjoying the (no-so) fresh air and minimal sunshine. 

By the time he’d had his first therapy appointment, he still had not seen Harry. He tried his best not to be disappointed in him, but… After the hospital, Eggsy almost thought Harry was going to apologize or at least make an effort of some sort. He’d looked so sad, but maybe Eggsy was just looking for something that wasn’t there.

His first appointment with his therapist was not what he expected. Not that he had much (or any) experience in the area, but he guessed it would be more tense and serious. 

Kingsman had three different therapists in rotation, in order to give some variety and also allow for people to, y’know, take breaks. Nobody could ever say there wasn't a heavy amount of trauma within the Kingsman circle, and dealing with that was difficult for professionals as well.

Eggsy’s therapist was a petite, average-looking woman in her late 30s or early 40s. She went over her credentials before asking Eggsy a few questions about himself and his history. He told her a brief bit about his childhood and adolescence, but she didn’t pry. They talked a little bit about the situation a few months ago, and Eggsy realized that was the first time he’d talked about it with anyone outside of sobbing to his mum since it happened. Bringing back the emotion was difficult, and his therapist (Gina) caught on quickly. She did _not_ let him off the hook easily, asking him where he thought the emotion (namely anger) came from, and asking him to expand multiple times. Eggsy normally hates talking about things, especially things charged with emotion, but he had to admit that he felt comfortable with Gina. She even cracked a few jokes which made Eggsy smile. 

He left the first session wary, but with a pep in his step that he hadn’t felt in a long while. 

_____

Naturally, Eggsy recovering and building his strength back up meant that in a few weeks he was back in the Kingsman gym for light workouts. During one of those workouts, after one of his sessions with Gina since he was already there, he ran into Harry again. He tried to keep focused on his workout, especially because he felt a surge of feelings move into his throat when he caught a glance of Harry through the mirrors. 

Harry almost startled when he saw Eggsy, but he definitely saw the older man’s eyes widen. Eggsy hesitated for a moment but gave Harry a small smile and a nod. He wasn’t going to initiate any further, but he felt no reason to be purposefully cold toward the other man (though he couldn’t deny that he was incredibly temped). If anything, that made Harry’s eyes get even wider and he looked a bit spooked if Eggsy was seeing things correctly. He almost commented or raised an eyebrow, but decided against it. 

Seeing Harry again, especially when there weren’t copious amounts of painkillers in his system, was not easy. Eggsy hardly finished up his workout (squats, some cardio, and stretches to end) without cutting it short to get out of Harry’s presence. He ended up lingering longer than he was proud of just to oogle Harry a bit more. 

Eggsy did have to admit… Harry is _well_ fit. Kinda hard for a bloke to ignore, if he’s being honest. At the end of his workout, Harry and him made extended awkward eye contact when Harry blatantly caught Eggsy staring. Bright pink flushes rose to both of their cheeks. Eggsy high-tailed his arse out of the gym, skipping a shower and going back home to watch videos of people making soap. 

_____

The next time Harry and Eggsy ran into one another, Eggsy had finished another appointment with Gina, where he confessed his attraction for his boss and Gina asked what about Harry he liked and why. Eggsy went on a bit of a tangent about how gorgeous Harry was, but ended up telling her about how soft and gentle he felt when he spoke to Eggsy. Eggsy felt like a person when Harry talked to him, not just some low-life street rat looking for a pence. Harry had said it himself; he made Eggsy feel like he had potential, drive, courage even. Harry just made him more confident. 

Until, of course, he found out Harry had been lying to him. Even then, he couldn’t shake his infatuation for the man. Clearly it was obvious Harry didn’t trust him, which was so counterintuitive to every other signal Harry had ever sent his way it was driving Eggsy mad. Gina asked him how Eggsy knew that Harry didn’t trust him, what would make him think that and why. She asked if he’d ever really talked to Harry after his capture, and he had to admit that no, he hadn’t. She leveled him with a flat stare and encouraged him to think about the possibility. 

Harry and Eggsy ran into each other in the hallway, literally. Harry was clearly on a time crunch, or at least felt like it, because he has his long legs in full-stride. Which Eggsy would have seen if he hadn’t been browsing pictures of frogs on his phone, contemplating the responsibility one would add and if he could reasonably fit it into his schedule. He was in the middle of googling more information about their diet when he hit another body, pretty hard, was thrown off-balance, and landed on his arse with his phone across the hall. He looked up to find Harry towering above him, looking equally ruffled with a rare few hairs out of place. 

Harry helped him up whilst profusely apologizing, his hands lingering on Eggsy’s forearms longer than necessary. The touch made Eggsy’s blood boil, even though it was light and through the sleeves of his shirt. Eggsy waved him off and said his apologies in turn.

“Was my fault anyway, bruv,” Eggsy said. He smiled and started to move forward when Harry’s voice stopped him.

“How-how’s…” Harry cleared his throat, “how is JB doing?” Harry asked, finally making eye contact. 

“‘e’s fine. Snores like a freight train, though.” Eggsy was looking at Harry with a wary eye. Just a few seconds ago, Harry definitely looked like he had some place to be. Now, he was all too happy to stay and chat, which hadn’t happened since… Eggsy was in training. 

Harry chuckled a little harder than Eggsy thought needed. “And… how are you doing, my - Eggsy? Recovering well?”

Eggsy nodded and took the time to study Harry’s deep brown eyes and the crow’s feet surrounding them. “Doin’ good. Should be back on cases by the end of the month.”

Harry nodded and stared at his feet before meeting Eggsy’s puzzled eyes again. “Very well. I’m happy you’re bouncing back. Please let me know if I can help in any way.” Harry paused and took a deep breath. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He gestured toward the other end of the hall. Eggsy nodded and made his way along the hall, trying not to read too much into the encounter. Though, he did have to admit that Harry was acting… rather odd. 

He buried his head into his phone again, debating the merits of a cricket vs. cockroach diet for green tree frogs. He didn’t look up to see Harry staring longingly at him from the end of the hall. 

_____

When he got back to his flat after running into Harry (pun intended), Eggsy found himself pacing angrily around his living room. He was getting stuck on what Gina had said during their last session, and realizing he’d never sat down and had a conversation with Harry about how he was feeling and how angry he was for being deliberately kept out of the loop. 

Since he’d seen Harry after The Incident, there never seemed to be much time or occasion to strike a conversation. Of course the first few times they ran into each other were stilted and awkward, although Eggsy did have to hand it to himself for keeping his cool when they literally ran into each other in the hall. 

The aloof, ‘what are you doing talking to me’ persona Eggsy attempted to adopt seemed to work well, which was his goal at the start of this whole ordeal. Pretend Harry didn’t exist and move on. 

Gina did _encourage_ him to marinate on his feelings more, allow himself to have emotions and what-not, or else he would continue to be miserable and unable to cope with his surroundings. As if he was a fully functioning and mentally stable adult before this happened. In all honesty, the only reason Eggsy was semi-functional before Kingsman was because he was trying to survive. If he hadn’t been… he isn’t quite sure what would’ve happened, but he tries not to dwell on the unknown.

Unless, of course, that unknown has anything to do with Harry Hart, in which case the thoughts are all consuming and constant. 

After making himself dinner and taking a (lukewarm) shower, Eggsy decides that he’s tired of trying to wonder about Harry and his opinion of Eggsy, namely because of the mixed signals he’s receiving. Keeping his existence a secret from Harry for a still-undetermined amount of time but was probably at least months? Versus the interaction they had in the hospital room and the hallway? The eye contact, the undivided attention, the disregard for important and probably time-sensitive tasks in order to check in on Eggsy? Eggsy’s never felt this amount of whiplash, and he’s no stranger to a car crash or a good punch in the face.

He resolves to solve the situation, come hell or high water. Or unbearable anxiety and possibly a panic attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! the last chapter might be a little longer... i have had some family crises this week and it has not made writing very possible. it's so close to being done i just have not been in a headspace where i can write. also the last chapter might have smut. i don't know yet.
> 
> comments and kudos are extremely appreciated, especially right now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay! here it is, finally. took a little longer, but i am actually kinda happy with this last chapter. there is some smut so be aware, though I don't really know if it's super explicit (i mean… it’s a little explicit but I didn't feel like it was worthy of an 'explicit' rating... y'know?). 
> 
> i hope you all enjoy!

The next day, Eggsy puts on his favorite clothes, a dark blue pinstripe suit with no vest or tie, does his hair in a slick coif, and forgoes his glasses. He has a casual white shirt underneath. When he walks out the door of the bathroom, he halts and does a double take (flipping on the lights and everything), because  _ damn _ he does look good today. Which was exactly Eggsy’s goal when walking out the door this morning.

As he starts walking, he does find himself spiraling into an anxious state of mind, causing him to smoke more than one cigarette on the way. They don’t calm his nerves so much as make him a little light headed and reek of smoke, but nonetheless it’s something to do with his hands. 

He gets into the office and onto the bullet train without fanfare. Briefly, he considers writing down what he wanted to say to Harry, at least on his phone, maybe even just a few bullet points, but he thinks reading from a device would be rather tacky and not suited to the situation. Eggsy ultimately decides to go from the heart (no pun intended) and stick to his gut. So far it hasn’t done a  _ terrible _ job of letting him down, but he does know there is room for improvement. 

  
As he gets closer to HQ, he feels his nerves starting to ramp up. He almost hopes that Harry isn’t in for some reason, maybe he decided to spontaneously take the day off and give Eggsy another day to bury his feelings and talk himself out of it. Nonetheless, he does his best to keep his breathing under control and not allow himself to back out unless the world has other plans for the day. His gut, once again, tells him he won’t be so lucky, however. 

He makes his way to Arthur’s office for the first time in what feels like years. Even though it’s only been a few months since he found out Harry was actually alive and well, Eggsy feels as though he’s been reborn more than once and gone through at least a year. Maybe the experience has just made him stronger, or whatever self-improvement bullshit about overcoming challenges it could be linked to, but Eggsy honestly feels like he’s come out on the other side of a ring of fire of sorts. And, in all fairness, he did have a pretty close call with his own mortality which he was still working through confronting, which could be a reason for his sudden amount of self-growth or confidence. Eggsy will be the first to tell you it ain’t no walk in the park, but he still has a hard time allowing himself to feel justified in his hurt and pain. He knows so many other people who have it worse… which is some self-sacrificial bullshit his therapist would call him out for in a heartbeat, but it doesn’t make it any less true. Eggsy feels less worthy and like his problems aren’t a big deal more days than not. He’s always been able to have a roof over his head. Sometimes he would go to bed hungry, yeah, especially when the options were between instant noodles and another can of soup. 

Still, even through the sting of injustice and anger that boils within him whenever he thinks about how many people he works with throwing money around like it was fire kindling, Eggsy can’t acknowledge that he had it rough as a kid. He knew kids who were worse off, and he was more angry at the system rather than the individual people. 

Gina and him have been working on denial of trauma for weeks now… It’s a process, to say the least.

These reflections carry Eggsy to Arthur’s office, and before he knows it, he’s standing in front of the door with his hand poised to knock. 

He takes a deep breath and rasps his hand against the door three times. His heart is beating out of his chest; Eggsy is half afraid he’s going to pass, out or worse, with how loud it is in his ears. His palms feel sweaty, and in that moment Eggsy thinks he would give almost anything to not have to do this, not have to be on this side of the equation.

But then he thinks about Harry’s smile, about Harry’s eyes raking over him, and his hands on Eggsy the few times he’s been lucky enough to experience it. He briefly considers the possibility of waking up next to Harry in the morning, sour breath, messy hair, and crusty eyes. The thought makes him smile to himself on the other side of the door.

“Come in,” Harry says, and Eggsy obeys. He cracks the door open and sees Harry, thankfully alone, sitting at his desk. Harry is poised with his hand holding a pen, looking ready to sign an important document. His glasses are folded next to him on the table, hair half persuaded into his usual style, a few curls still visible from the edges. Eggsy feels his mouth go dry. He has to suck a larger breath in for a bit more air.

“Oh,” Harry says, eyes brightening and tone pleasantly surprised. “Eggsy.” He ends his thought with a small smile that makes Eggsy’s stomach drop down to his knees.

Harry puts down his pen as Eggsy nods, smiles, and tilts his head in greeting, at a bit of a loss for words. 

“Sit down,” Harry says, gesturing to the chair. He leans back and crosses his legs, looking like a version of the exact dream Eggsy has experienced a few times before, every one of them ending in his fervent disappointment when he woke up. Eggsy sits down himself and tries to organize his thoughts into words.

“Hiya, Harry,” Eggsy says jovially. He feels like he’s about to fall into a deep, dark, pit inside, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders from seeing Harry again deliberately.

He straightens his posture and sits down on one of the chairs across from Harry on the opposite side of his desk. It feels sorta formal for Eggsy’s taste, but he guesses needs must and all that. Not like there are many other places he could corner Harry in an effort to confess his feelings for the man. 

Eggsy briefly considers the negative impacts of mixing business and pleasure, but he tells the rational and professional part of his brain to please fuck off for a few minutes. If he can get paid to fuck on company time (honeypots are rare but not unheard of), he can use Arthur’s office to confess his love for his boss. 

“As good as it is to see you,” Harry begins, “your presence in my office has not been a common occurrence.”

Eggsy smiles and looks down at his hands. Trust Harry to hit the nail right on the head, no beating around the bush. 

“You're not wrong,” Eggsy replies. He takes a beat to consider his next words carefully. “I do think we need to talk, Harry,” Eggsy finally decides on. He looks Harry in the eyes, peeking at him through his own lashes only a little. Just for dramatic effect, he tells himself. 

Harry raises an eyebrow and folds his hands under his chin. He looks more wide-eyed than Eggsy was exactly expecting, but then again, he’s already prepared himself for rejection. 

“About what, specifically?” Harry asks. They hold eye contact for a few charged seconds before Eggsy looks away, down at his feet again.

“Y’know, it really hurt,” Eggsy started. He looked back up into Harry’s maple-colored eyes. “It hurt when I found out you was alive. How was I supposed to feel, Harry? To know you had kept it from me, but not Roxy and Merlin?” Eggsy looked down. “It tore me apart,” he finished softly.

He and Harry sat in silence for a few minutes. Eggsy looked back up but didn’t let his eyes drift to Harry, rather he focused his gaze on the shiny top of the table and the discarded fountain pen on the desk. 

Eggsy continues before he can talk himself out of speaking more, finding himself a little more angry, a little more frustrated, a little less resigned. 

“Well, what was I supposed to think? You’se left me in the dark. On  _ this _ , Harry. Not on some classified mission or something, no, on you. Being alive. You let me believe you was dead.”

Harry lets out a long breath. Eggsy is finding it impossible to gauge his reaction, but he finds himself more upset than he thought, continuing on almost as if his brain to mouth filter was no longer functioning.

“I thought you trusted me. After everything… It felt like you couldn’t trust me. Couldn’t be bothered to clue me in.” Eggsy finishes, soft and matter of fact. He feels exhausted already, and Harry hasn’t even had a chance to reply. 

They sit in silence for a long moment. Eggsy doesn’t feel like he has anything else to say, he thinks Harry can read between the lines and hear the level of betrayal Eggsy felt. He is, after all, a spy. (They both are, come to think of it…)

Harry cleared his throat. “Eggsy, I…” He trailed off, took a large breath and exhaled. It made Eggsy think of smoking another cigarette, and he suddenly felt a deep craving in his core for the burn in his lungs and the smooth exhale. If he was in his own office, he would have no qualms about lighting up, but he still wasn’t sure if Harry knew he smoked, and Eggsy wasn’t too eager for him to find out sooner than he needed to. 

“Eggsy, I don’t know what else to say but I’m sorry. It was never my intention to hurt you or make you feel forgotten, but needs must.”

Eggsy narrowed his eyes. “‘Needs must’? Really, Harry? You’re throwing  _ that _ bullshit at me?”

Harry’s eyes widened when Eggsy spoke. He could tell Harry wasn’t thrilled about being called out, but Eggsy wasn’t going to let that line of shit stink fly. He didn’t come here, bear his soul, and allow himself to be vulnerable for the excuse of ‘needs must’. Honestly, if Eggsy was thinking more clearly he might’ve thought the bullet did more damage to Harry’s head than he heard. 

Harry let out another sigh, not loud or ostentatious, but perceptible nonetheless. 

“Perhaps I was a bit… selfish in my decision to not include you in this news.”

“‘Ya think?” Eggsy asked, getting more angry than he intended, but unsure of how to stop himself short of bursting into tears. He didn’t come here to fight with Harry, but the more he kept talking, the more Eggsy wished he could throw a punch straight into Harry’s face. He refrained, if only for the social impropriety. 

Harry took his glasses off his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Eggsy felt his eyes narrow, physically biting his tongue to hold himself off from making biting comments. In the back of his head, Eggsy knew that Harry was probably having just as difficult a time as him, the man got shot in the head for fuckssake, but in the moment he couldn’t turn off the enraged idea that Harry was glossing over this secret, which made Eggsy feel like he had a knife driven through his chest. The rational part of his brain was refusing to cooperate, beginning to shut down in his stress.

Eggsy waited for a few more charged seconds. He thought Harry would say something, anything, but all the man continued to do was pinch the bridge of his nose. Eggsy felt the tears coming before he could stop them. 

He turned and left the room, fighting back tears until he could be alone once again. 

_____

Eggsy truly tried to get through the rest of his day at work, but he quickly gave up and found himself blowing off steam in the gym once again. 

His target was the punching bag, knuckles unwrapped, ferociously channeling all the hurt, anger, and confusion through his hands and into the sand-filled leather. He stayed like this for an extended amount of time, losing the feeling in his hands and barely noticing when they started to crack and bleed. He pulled back once he noticed blood on the leather, startling himself into reality. He looked at his bloody knuckles and felt vaguely sick. 

For all the blood Eggsy’s spilt in his life, he never purposefully inflicted any of his own wounds. Sure, he’d thought about it, but pain was never something he sought out, but instead chose to deal with as it came. His hands were shaking and he knew he would’ve freaked out more, possibly gone through another round of tears if he hadn’t been weeping in his office all morning. As it were, he just sighed and started cleaning the blood off the punching bag with a spare towel he had. He went to the locker rooms, showered, dressed, and went home to lay in bed for the rest of the day. 

_____

Only a few hours into Eggsy’s self directed pity party (made even more pitious by the fact that he didn’t tell Harry what he’d gone into that room to say to him), there was a knock at the door. Eggsy seriously considered not answering and waiting until the person got bored and left, but his experience with Roxy proved motivated people were not so easily swayed. 

He dragged himself out of bed, pillow creases on his face and all, to open the door. He didn’t even bother to check the peephole, partially wishing for the excitement and distraction of a possible intruder. 

The last thing he was expecting to see was Harry standing on the other side of the door, nervously shifting from foot to foot. Firstly, Eggsy didn’t think he’d ever seen Harry  _ nervous _ , and secondly, Harry was holding a large, beautiful bouquet of flowers. Eggsy’s eyes widened in a comical fashion. He was so taken aback he forgot to ask Harry to come inside, standing in the doorway without a shirt, pajama pants low on his hips, and feet completely bare. 

They looked at each other for a few awkward, extended seconds. Eggsy’s eyes bugged, Harry looking unreasonably upset and nervous in only a way that a man in the wrong could.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. Eggsy’s mouth opened unattractively, but no words would come out. “I’m sorry for not telling you I was alive. I’m sorry for trusting Merlin and Roxy, and for making them hide it from you. It was wrong.” He continued. 

Eggsy’s mouth continued to flap like a fish. Harry held the bouquet up. It was filled with red roses and lilies with baby's breath scattered around in between. Nobody had ever gotten Eggsy flowers, so the gesture left him even more speechless than before. 

“ _ Oh _ ,” Eggsy said finally. 

“May I… come in?” Harry asked. Those few words held as much vulnerability as Eggsy had ever seen in him. Eggsy stepped aside, eyes still focused on the flowers in Harry’s hand.

The movement finally seemed to shake Eggsy out of his stunned disbelief. He let Harry in and walked past where he stood in the kitchen to the bedroom, finding a plain white shirt on the floor and throwing it on. Eggsy had already given up on his hair. He had a minute panic attack when he realized his apartment was a mess, but he pushed those thoughts into the back of his head. It wasn’t the worst he’d seen (or lived in), just a few dishes piling up in the sink and general grunge from a few too many weeks without a good scrub. 

He went out and met Harry in the kitchen.

“Tea?” He asked, trying his best to be a good host. That’s all Eggsy could do. Try his best.

“Please,” Harry said. He looked stiff in Eggsy’s apartment, hands clasped behind him. The flowers were resting on the counter, sans a vase. Eggsy put the kettle on after filling it with water and went rifling through his cupboards for an adequate container for the flowers. He didn’t get his hopes up for an actual vase. 

He found a suitable container, more of a large glass than a vase, and filled it partway up with water. He went to put the flowers in when Harry cleared his throat.

“I think you’re supposed to cut the ends of the stems off,” he spoke. Eggsy looked at him and raised an eyebrow, but put the flowers down and pulled out some scissors. He got to cutting while Harry watched him in complete silence. 

Once the flowers were in the vase and sat on the bar in the kitchen, he and Harry looked at each other for a few minutes. It felt stiff and uncomfortable, which was eroding Eggsy’s confidence. The kettle whistled. Eggsy moved over to pour and assemble the tea, and when he turned around Harry was mere inches away from him. Eggsy felt his breath hitched as he looked into Harry’s eyes. They looked a little sad, Eggsy noted. He backed up so his bum was against the counter, away from the boiling water in cups, and shifted his weight between his feet a couple times. 

“Eggsy…” Harry said, voice hardly above a whisper. He was so close Eggsy almost couldn’t believe it. He licked his lips, and felt himself being pulled toward Harry. “What happened to your hands?”

Eggsy faltered for a second, trying to think of which words would make this situation better.

“Uh… Little too much overenthusiasm in the gym?” 

Harry raised an unamused eyebrow. He reached for the scraped knuckles and held them in his hand, looking at them with an appraising eye.

“Well… I can’t fault you for that.” Harry said softly as he brought the knuckles up to brush his lips against the cracked skin. Eggsy’s breathing hitched as Harry brought their eyes together.

Hands settled on Eggsy’s hips as he pushed himself up onto his toes. Harry met him in the middle where their lips met. The first kiss was as brief as it was sweet, the two hardly pulling back before leaning in for more. They shifted together, changing the angle, and Eggsy thought this was the closest to perfection he’d ever get. 

They continued to snog in Eggsy’s kitchen for an indeterminate amount of time. Eggsy’s hands found themselves to Harry’s shoulders, down his chest, and settled on his hips. Harry’s hands drifted lower, then back up, then down to his arse. Eggsy couldn’t say he minded. 

Eggsy settled his thicker-than-average lower half on the countertop to get a better angle. This worked well for a few minutes, but he ended up moving wrong and spilling warm leaf-water all over. Thankfully it had cooled down enough to no longer be painful. 

Eggsy looked up at Harry after getting off the counter, jammies soaking wet, and they laughed. Full bodied, nearly painful laughter. It was the best Eggsy could remember feeling in years.

_____

A few months goes by. Eggsy’s problems aren’t miraculously solved by Harry fancying him in return; there are still some days that he lays in bed and stares at the wall, some days he feels the hurt and mistrust more than others. But, Harry is there to bring him tea and snacks, so he can’t say it’s all bad.

One problem Eggsy sure has that Harry could  _ easily _ fix is that he isn’t getting laid. Like… at all. 

Now, Eggsy isn’t one to jump into sexual aspects of his relationships, quite the opposite. In fact, Eggsy has little experience in the area. A few fumbles and one completely embarrassing romp between the sheets. So, he understands waiting, and he’s not opposed to waiting… to a degree. It’s been months, however, and Eggsy isn’t entirely sure how else to let Harry know he’s ready, willing, and able to take their relationship further than the long, hot makeout sessions on the couch. Not to mention Eggsy’s never felt the way he does about Harry before.

Sitting Harry down and talking about it (c’mon… they hadn’t even done some over-the-pants action) didn’t seem like the sexy introduction past first base Eggsy was hoping for. In a pinch, though, Eggsy guessed it was an adequate alternative. He thought he might have a few moves to try out before at least. 

As in all his dire times, Eggsy seeks out the advice of Roxy. It had taken a few weeks, but they repaired and fell back into the old routine of their friendship. They go for a walk around the manor, trying to soak up as much sun as they could while it was out, which was never for long. 

They were well into the woods, past the point of any cameras being around, and both of them had taken off their glasses. Eggsy broached his issue cautiously, but Roxy caught on pretty quick and started making fun of him.

“So, what, you’re boyfriend won’t rail you?” She said, laughing. 

“Well,” Eggsy said, his voice higher pitched than he would like, “yeah.”

Roxy broke into full-blown hysterics. Eggsy went bright red and they both had to stop walking. Eggsy stood with his arms crossed while Roxy doubled over and laughed so hard Eggsy thought she was in genuine pain. 

He had to admit it was pretty funny, but he refused to crack a smile based on pure principle.

_____

Roxy ended up being a great help, as always, but she did mercilessly tease him the entire walk home. She suggested that Eggsy wine and dine Harry, really set the mood with all the cliche bullshit he could handle (including, but not limited to, picking a dazzlingly sexy outfit). Candles, clean sheets, the whole nine yards. When he brought up the fact that he was worried that Harry might not be interested, Roxy pointed out Harry was no stranger to honeypots, so he couldn’t be completely averse. Eggsy nodded his head in agreement and started laying his plans. 

Eggsy wasn’t the most traversed when it came to romantic gestures, but he thought that he knew Harry pretty well, and he had some opinions of his own. Afterall, Eggsy wasn’t all that uh… well traveled either, so some of the mood-setting would be for himself too. 

He debated the merits of inviting Harry over, but the man was noticeably more comfortable in his own home, so he made arrangements while Harry was finishing up work on a Friday afternoon. Eggsy talked to Merlin before he left and got a promise that he would make sure Harry left at a reasonable hour. Eggsy made him pinky swear. 

After he left HQ, he went to the store and got the ingredients to make stuffed shells for dinner. It wasn’t the most high-class, but pasta and cheese was never a bad idea in Eggsy’s mind, and it wasn’t something he could easily mess up. He got fresh parmesan, which he knew Harry would appreciate, and tiramisu for dessert. He knew Harry had a wine stock large enough to sink a ship, so he didn’t worry about the alcohol for the time being. 

Once he picked up the groceries, he made his way to Harry’s house. He’d already packed a bag with his Date Night Outfit (as Roxy had called it, capitalization included), and a few other supplies just in case. 

Eggsy let himself into Harry’s house (yes, he had a key) and put the groceries into the kitchen before setting his bag upstairs. He set out his Roxy approved Date Night Outfit, which consisted of  _ tight _ black jeans and a ribbed mustard turtleneck. Simple, sexy, and every-so-slightly fashionable. 

Eggsy gets partly undressed, removing his suit coat and hanging it up. He took off his tie to hang with the suit coat and undid a few buttons on his collared white shirt. He kicked off his shoes and set his cufflinks in a bowl beside the dresser with a  _ clink _ , unbuttoning the cuffs while he was at it. After rolling up his sleeves, Eggsy makes his way to the kitchen and begins cooking, starting with putting water on to boil and quickly moving to browning meat. 

He pulls up a recipe partway through, just to make sure he isn’t putting way too much oregano into the mix, and turns on some music. He whistles, hums, and sings along to the songs, allowing himself to get lost in the feeling of being distracted. Every so often, he makes sure to sneak a look at the clock. Once the shells are in the oven, Eggsy hops into the shower quickly. He hears the timer going off towards the end of his shower, set short to be sure he wouldn’t risk burning the house down, and ends up downstairs in just a towel wrapped around his waist, still damp. He turns the oven down to keep the food warm, pops in some garlic bread, and goes upstairs to finish getting ready. 

He gets dressed, making sure to double check his arse in the mirror to ensure it looks nice (it does), and puts just a little bit of product into his hair to keep it out of his face. He absentmindedly thinks that it’ll probably look awfully good sweaty and falling  _ into _ his face later, but he just smirks at himself in the mirror and tries not to get his hopes up too much. 

Eggsy shuffles his feet into a fuzzy pair of socks (the wood floors are cold… sue him) and gives his outfit a last few tugs. He can’t help but shoot a small smile to his reflection, taking out his phone and snapping a picture of himself in the mirror to send to Roxy. He makes his way downstairs and peeks at the shells again. 

His phone vibrates while he completes setting the table, silverware all in a row, water glasses topped off, and wine glasses perfectly poised, ready to be filled. Eggsy even got out a nice tablecloth for the absurdly large kitchen table. Roxy sent him back a few thirst emojis which makes him grin down at his phone. He puts the parmesan cheese in a fancy bowl to go on the table just as he hears a key in the lock. He glances to the clock on the stove and isn’t too disappointed with Merlin. Quarter-past 7 isn’t bad for Harry, even on a Friday night. 

Eggsy can tell the older man is more than a little surprised walking into his home, and Eggsy gives himself (and Roxy) a pat on the back when he sees the way Harry lets his eyes drag over Eggsy’s figure before he even says hello. 

Eggsy walks over to Harry and helps him take off his jacket. 

“What a pleasant surprise,” Harry tells Eggsy, still recovering from the shock. “Whatever are you doing here?”

Eggsy gives Harry a charming grin. “Thought we could have a nice date-night. Together.”

Harry smiles and leans in to smooch Eggsy’s cheek before going in for a steamy kiss. They both get a little lost in embrace, but Harry pulls away eventually. 

“It smells lovely,” Harry says, glancing at the kitchen. 

“Why don’t you get washed up and dinner’ll be ready when you come down?” Eggsy leans up to give Harry another kiss, this one not as enthusiastic or long-lasting.

“I think you have a great idea, Eggsy.”

Harry quickly gets ready and comes downstairs in his white button-up, with the top few buttons undone (Eggsy takes the time to notice and appreciate), and a more casual pair of grey trousers. His sleeves are also rolled up to his elbows which made Eggsy drool a little bit because exposed forearms can be dangerous. While Harry was freshening up, Eggsy had gotten the shells out of the oven and onto the table with a few finishing touches. 

He couldn’t resist giving Harry another quick smooch, resting his hand on Harry’s chest. He also told Harry that he hadn’t picked a wine since he knew Harry would know better. Harry chuckled and went down to select something, came back and told Eggsy the name (fuck if Eggsy remembered… Maybe Bordeaux something?) before uncorking it and pouring them a glass. Eggsy apologized for not letting it decant, and Harry just smirked and let out a soft laugh in reply.

They sat down to eat, Eggsy serving them both, and caught up on each other’s days. Harry talked about finishing up paperwork and working through some of the budget processes that went with being Arthur. Eggsy talked about shopping and getting ready, telling Harry how his family would make this meal frequently growing up. 

“I must say,” Harry said when they were about halfway done, “your outfit is exquisite tonight.” He gave Eggsy an appreciative look from head to toe, which made the younger man blush and smile down at his plate. “The mustard is lovely on your skin.”

“Well you don’t dress-down so bad yourself.” Eggsy replied. He wasn’t sure what else to say, since Harry hadn’t exactly anticipated the situation, but Eggsy thought he always looked good nonetheless. “‘Course I’m biased. You always look good.” He gave Harry a wink while he was sipping his wine. Harry thanked him and they finished their meal with idle chatter and no small amount of flirting.

Dessert went over well, Harry complimenting his choice of tiramisu. When they were finished, Eggsy cleared the plates (though Harry protested multiple times and insisted on clearing and boxing the leftovers). He waited for Harry in the living room while he cleaned up a little more, topping off their glasses of wine on the way. Harry finished storing the rest of the food and left the dishes for later. He sat close to Eggsy, accepting the wine he was handed and clinking their glasses together softly. Harry settled his other hand behind Eggsy on the couch. 

Eggsy took a healthy sip of his own wine and then leaned over to set his glass on the table. He rested his free hand on Harry’s leg. 

“Thank you for a lovely dinner, Eggsy,” Harry said. His words were unassuming, but his eyes were so full of emotion Eggsy could tell the gesture meant a lot to him.

“Gotta treat you right,” Eggsy said. “Don’t want you findin’ something better.”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think such a thing exists, my boy.” Harry put his glass on the table as well and joined his hand with Eggsy’s. 

Eggsy could feel the tension building and he couldn’t hide his nervous excitement. 

They met each other in a slow but passionate kiss, lips moving leisurely against each other. Eggsy felt some of his nerves dissipate, remembering that they had all the time in the world. Tonight was just for them. 

They carried on in this fashion for quite some time, eventually migrating so that Harry was on top of Eggsy while they laid on the couch. Harry’s hands found their way to Eggsy’s hips, Eggsy’s hands were running over Harry’s back through his shirt. Their legs were tangled together, Eggsy’s open so Harry sat comfortably between them. 

Harry eventually broke the kiss and trailed his lips down Eggsy’s jaw, running them over each side before giving a nip to his chin. Eggsy gave a small groan of approval and bit his already red and swollen lip. 

Eggsy sat up more so he was on Harry’s lap straddling him. Harry lifted Eggsy for a second so he could get his legs into a more comfortable position, but the movement jostled Eggsy’s hips into Harry’s firm stomach. Eggsy let out another noise to signal his enjoyment, canting his hips into the pressure. 

Harry smirked and used his chin to move Eggsy’s turtleneck down so he could run his lips and teeth over the exposed skin. Eggsy had to bite his lip again to not let out a high-pitched noise. Harry hadn’t shaved since this morning, so the slight stubble was heavenly on his warm skin. 

Harry continued to assault his neck while he moved his hands up Eggsy’s back before trailing them down, down… all the way to his arse. Eggsy let out a loud breath and squeezed Harry’s shoulders. 

Harry gave another nip to his jaw, saying “Those jeans should be illegal.” He followed his statement up with another squeeze to the meat of Eggsy’s arse. 

By this time, Eggsy was flushed and more than a little wanting. His jeans, which were tight to begin with, were now uncomfortably so. He ran his hands though Harry’s hair, letting it escape some of the product. “If we take this upstairs maybe you can see them from a better angle.” He followed up the reply by taking Harry’s earlobe between his teeth. The older man let out a low sound in reply.

“Oh? And what would that be?”

Eggsy kissed the soft skin behind Harry’s ear and whispered “spread on the floor.”

That seemed to be enough for Harry, who stood up and took Eggsy with him, hands holding his arse. Eggsy’s legs automatically wrapped around Harry’s waist as he carried them up the stairs. When they reached the top, Harry wasn’t even out of breath. Well, no more than he had been before, at least. 

Harry got them both to the bedroom, all in one piece, shutting the door with his foot and depositing Eggsy on the bed in one swift move. He took the time to survey Eggsy splayed out in his bed, which made Eggsy’s heart beat even faster. The smirk that lit up Harry’s face made Eggsy a little more out of breath as well. 

Harry undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt while Eggsy worked on getting out of his turtleneck. He got a little caught up and Harry laughed before helping him get his head and arms out of the fabric. His laugh was infectious, so Eggsy was smiling and laughing as well by the time he was free. He grabbed Harry by the back of the neck and brought their lips together. 

The contact distracted them, and Eggsy’s hands found their way down Harry’s chest through his unbuttoned shirt. The cuffs were still buttoned, so he couldn’t get it off, but he was content to trail his hands through the hair on Harry’s chest, feeling the defined muscles of his pecs and the smooth skin. 

Harry held himself up with his left hand on the bed, allowing his right to explore Eggsy’s exposed skin. Harry gently laid himself down on top of Eggsy, getting as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. His hand continued to trail down, past the thatch of hair leading into Eggsy’s pants, and cups Eggsy through his skin tight jeans. Eggsy moans and couldn’t help his hips rolling into the pressure. He shut his eyes, the small amount of friction feeling better than anything Eggsy can remember in the last few weeks. 

Harry continues to grind the heel of his hand through Eggsy’s jeans as Eggsy lifts his hips up to meet him. Their lips have since parted, but Harry continues to nip at Eggsy’s jawline and find other places for his mouth to wander. He lets his teeth scrape across Eggsy’s neck, right near his jugular vein beating strong through his skin. Eggsy whines and grabs at Harry’s waist with his hands. 

Eggsy can  _ feel _ Harry smirking as he trails his lips downward, still gripping Eggsy through his pants. He lets up some pressure when he trails his mouth over Eggsy’s nipple and gives it a suck. 

Harry shifts his weight so he can have two free hands, leaving him lying mostly on Eggsy with his mouth on the younger man’s chest. He straddles one of Eggsy’s legs, positioning himself so he isn’t grinding on Eggsy’s leg, but Eggsy is helpless to the pressure of his thigh through two layers of clothing. Eggsy shifts his hands from Harry’s flanks to his shoulders, letting one wander up into his hair almost without thinking. 

Harry gives Eggsy a bite between his pecs, causing Eggsy to tighten his hands and make another noise, squirming a little beneath Harry. Harry lightly presses down with his knee as he brings a hand up to tweak Eggsy’s nipple, smirking again when he feels Eggsy buck up into his thigh and let out a soft breath at the friction. He thinks he sees the shadow of a smile creep onto Eggsy’s face, making him more determined. 

He continues to play with one of Eggsy’s nipples, leaving wet kisses on Eggsy’s chest while he makes his way to the other. He gives it another wet kiss, timed with another movement of his knee, which causes Eggsy to suck in a harsh breath and let out another moan when Harry closes his mouth around the bud and sucks. His eyes never leave Eggsy’s face, rubbing one hardening tip between two fingers while he skims the tips on his other fingers over Eggsy’s flank. He rubs lightly back and forth over Eggsy’s side, feeling him shiver in response. 

Eggsy’s breathing picks up a noticeable amount, and Harry continues to work most of his limbs in tandem while Eggsy keeps grinding against his thigh. He stops rubbing Eggsy’s flank to grab the flesh instead. Eggsy exhales a soft moan, letting his head fall back into the pillows. He hasn’t been able to look down at Harry much, the few glimpses making him a little too hot considering they’re grinding against each other like teenagers. Well, to be fair, he’s doing most of the grinding while Harry is just looking like the cat that caught the canary. 

“If you keep doing that,” Eggsy says, sounding more breathless than he cares to admit after such little clothing has come off. “I’m going to come.” Harry still has his shirt on, unbuttoned and flowing behind him. Eggsy thinks he should be illegal in his current state, or at least not available to the general public. Or anyone else, for the time being, except maybe Eggsy later. In his memories and/or in person, he isn’t too picky.

“That’s rather the object, Eggsy.”

He follows his statement with a bite, then a soothing lick, to Eggsy’s nipple. The sting feels like a livewire through his body, especially where Harry is still moving his thigh against Eggsy’s crotch. Eggsy’s leaking inside his pants by now, can feel material sticking to his skin. He can’t seem to stop moving his hips, though, and if Harry is happy, then Eggsy is not going to argue. 

Harry takes the opportunity to move his hand so they’re both on opposite nipples, licking the middle of Eggsy’s chest. He can’t help biting down and drawing the flesh into his mouth, sucking slightly. Eggsy moans when both Harry’s fingers roll his nipples into stiff peaks, pulling them slightly away and adding just a little bit of finger nail to pinch one. 

Eggsy’s breathing hitches and his breathing continues to grow labored. Harry shifts his weight so he’s above Eggsy again, fully allowing Eggsy to grind up into his thigh while he creates his own rhythm with his hips. He moves his lip’s back to Eggsy’s, sucking on his tongue for a brief few seconds before going to bite Eggsy’s lower lip. 

Harry moves his lips back to Eggsy’s ear and takes his earlobe between his teeth. Eggsy’s hands grasp at Harry’s back through his shirt, nails catching on the fabric. 

“Harry,” he groans, feeling himself tense. Harry increases the pressure from his thigh as Eggsy grabs his shirt with both hands. He leans down to take one of Eggsy’s nipples into his mouth again, using his teeth to pull the hardened nub away from his body before using his tongue to soothe the skin. 

Eggsy moves one of his hands back to Harry’s hair, gripping his shirt with the other. He grinds his hips a few more times before throwing his head back as he finds his release. Harry continues his ministrations as Eggsy jerks his hips and tenses. 

“Good boy,” Harry says, causing another twitch to go through Eggsy. Eggsy groans and finally slumps as his body relaxes. Harry stops playing with his nipples and gives a few more rubs with his thigh. Eggsy lets out a long sigh.

Harry plants a few more kisses to the side of his neck before kneeling. He stands up and goes to remove his cufflinks languidly. He keeps an eye on Eggsy while he unbuttons his cuffs and finally removes his shirt. He tosses it into the hamper before going back to Eggsy and unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans.

Harry brings his lips to Eggsy’s stomach softly as he lifts Eggsy’s butt to help get the ridiculously tight jeans off. Eggsy remains fairly boneless, hands resting above his head and looking like every overindulgent renaissance painting Harry can think of. Harry can’t think of a more beautiful sight, and he hardly wastes time telling Eggsy so, even as he struggles to get the boy’s jeans off. 

Eggsy chuckles and responds with a bit of a mumbled “fanks, Harry. Not so bad yourself.”

Harry plants a few more kisses on the soft part of Eggsy’s belly, before truly giving up. 

“These jeans are too bloody tight,” he curses. Eggsy responds with a whole hearted laugh, but finally pushes himself up into a sitting position. He works on getting his jeans off, the sticky mess in his pants starting to cool uncomfortably. 

Harry stands again to let him do so and removes his own trousers. Eggsy (finally) flings his jeans off and makes an unpleasant face at the mess in his underwear. 

“Feel like a fuckin’ teenager,” he comments.

Harry makes a noncommittal noise as he folds his pants and goes to set them on the dresser. He keeps his underwear on, crawling back on top of Eggsy to snog him more. 

Things get more heated with Harry grabbing at Eggsy’s arse and trying to make him combust with the way Harry intertwines their mouths. After a few minutes, Eggsy finally gets his bearings and flips them so he can be on top of Harry. He works his way down Harry’s chest and they both work to get the last article of their clothing off. Eggsy takes Harry in his mouth after they remove their boxers. Harry sighs and sets his hands on Eggsy’s shoulders.

Eggsy moves one hand up into his hair and starts to move his head. He tries to vary his movements, going from slow to fast and back again, bringing one hand up to stroke what he can’t fit in his mouth. He can tell he’s on the right track when Harry starts sighing and allowing a few sounds to escape his mouth. 

Harry starts breathing heavier and clenching his hands in Eggsy’s hair and on his back. Eggsy speeds up his movements and fixes his eyes on Harry, unwilling to miss the view. Harry looks down at him and they make eye contact for a few seconds. Eggsy feels his face heat and his heartbeat pick up thinking about how he must look to Harry right now. He can say without a doubt that this view is one of the best he’s had in awhile. 

While he and Harry maintained eye contact, Eggsy took as much of him as he could in his mouth and squeezed the base with his hand. Eggsy saw Harry close his eyes, groan, and buck his hips up further into Eggsy’s mouth. Eggsy backed off a bit, but worked Harry through his completion. 

Harry gently tugged on his hair a handful of moments later and Eggsy released him and crawled back up Harry’s body to give him a messy kiss. Eggsy groaned himself, finding his interest renewed. 

Harry smirked, teasing Eggsy. “Still feel like a teenager?”

Eggsy whined in reply. “Don’t joke, Harry. You’re too bloody good lookin’.” He smiled at Harry and leaned in for another kiss. Harry chuckled, the sound filling Eggsy’s ears and heart with contentment. 

They continued on like this for a while, Harry soon reaching down to grab at his glutes again. Eggsy made noises of pleasure in his throat while they continued to kiss, grinding lightly against the bare skin of Harry’s hip. Harry squeezed his arse, causing Eggsy to let out another slightly embarrassing noise. 

Eggsy pulled back from their kiss to catch his breath. Harry took the opportunity to snake one of his hands around and firmly grasp Eggsy. Eggsy bit his lip, managing to muffle his high-pitched moan at least slightly. He let his head fall forward into Harry’s shoulder as Harry continued to give him firm strokes. 

Harry kept his hand on Eggsy’s arse, encouraging and almost rocking Eggsy in tandem with the movements of his hand. Once Eggsy’s breathing started to pick up, Harry gave the tip a generous few sweeps with his thumb before resuming his strokes with an added twist to the tip. 

Eggsy felt incredible, unable to decide between the pressure of Harry’s dual grip. His hands started to grab at Harry’s chest.

Harry continued to encourage him. “Come on, Eggsy,” he said softly, speaking into Eggsy’s ear. “You can let go.”

“Fuck,” Eggsy swore. His own thrusts grew faster.

Harry kissed at the skin behind his ear and continued his verbal praise. “You look so beautiful in my hands. Insatiable creature, I bet you’re going to wake me up tonight grinding against my thigh again, aren’t you?”

Eggsy whined high in his throat. He felt his body tensing, Harry’s words pushing him the extra step over the edge. 

As soon as he started to fall over the precipice, Harry whispered “good boy” into his ear which made Eggsy’s hips jacknife almost violently as he shuddered. Harry continued to stroke him until Eggsy rolled out of his grip. He didn’t go far, though, positioning himself half on top of Harry.

The other man thankfully took the hint and wrapped his arms around Eggsy, giving a soft kiss to his forehead. Harry leaned over to the night table to get a tissue and clean his hand off. Eggsy tried to keep his eyes open, but he could tell he was fading fast.

He forced himself up a little bit to plant a kiss to the side of Harry’s mouth. 

“That was brilliant,” he said sincerely. 

“That it was,” Harry says. They sigh contentedly and wiggle around to get comfortable with each other. 

Eggsy plants another kiss to Harry’s chest. “Good night, Harry,” he says, trying to put every ounce of infatuation he feels into his voice. While he deliberately tried not to get his hopes up for the evening, Eggsy thought the outcome was better than he could have hoped. 

He felt satiated and satisfied, wrapped up in Harry’s arms. He tries to file this moment away for later and takes a few seconds to commit to memory as best he could, basking in the feeling of being satisfied and fully content.

“Good night, Eggsy.” Harry says. He brings his other arm to wrap around Eggsy and plants a kiss in his hair. “Sweet dreams.”

Eggsy belatedly thinks that his dreams could never be this sweet, but he was asleep before he could get the words out.

_____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alrighty so i know i was like 'haha eggsy needs to get LAID' but i just wanna explain that i know every relationship isn't like that and sex isn't inherent. i used it more for a plot point but i wasn't implying that ALL relationships need to involve sex. hope this was clear!
> 
> please leave me some love! comments and kudos would be greatly appreciated 🥺 and thanks for getting to the end of the story, i hope it was worth the wait.

**Author's Note:**

> u can find me at eltonlongjohn. on tumblr. i changed my url twice now don't be alarmed.


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